


Just Another Normal Day

by EllianaDunla



Series: (Not So) Normal Days [1]
Category: Merlin (TV), Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-04 18:11:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 237,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllianaDunla/pseuds/EllianaDunla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Section D is hunting the bad guy, Arthur and Merlin are hunting some innocent animal and a not so innocent terrorist gets stuck in the middle. 'Arthur Pendragon, at your service.' 'Yeah, whatever.'<br/>And with Morgana and an old "friend" of MI-5 on the rampage in London, working together might just be the only thing that can prevent complete disaster from happening.<br/>Set in Spooks series 7 and Merlin series 4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Just Another Normal Day

Chapter 1

It was just another normal day in the life of Ros Myers, Section Chief of Section D, MI-5. So that meant that she was running at full speed, chasing an Al-Qaeda terrorist just outside a little village near London, with Lucas and Jo on her heels.   
This particular man, who they believed to be the leader of a terror cell that was planning an attack on London (as Al-Qaeda tended to try every now and then) had taken to hiding in this small village when they had discovered his hide-out in the capital a week ago. It had taken six days of working around the clock and rattling more cages than Ros cared to count before they had located his new hiding place. So there was no way she was letting him get away from them a second time. There was only so much failure she could cope with and Harry’s temper could take.   
‘Hurry up, he’s getting away!’ came Jo’s voice, slightly out of breath.  
I know. Ros wondered why her younger colleague always liked to point out the obvious, although, in this case, she had to admit that Jo was right. She had no idea when Al-Qaeda had discovered the benefits of regular work-outs, but she sincerely regretted that they had. So she doubled her efforts, increasing her speed until she was running as fast as her suspect. A quick glance over her shoulder learned that her two colleagues were following her example.  
Their man was now headed for the small piece of forest bordering the village. ‘Shit!’ Ros cursed under her breath. Chasing him in the woods might prove to be quite difficult, but the way things were looking now they weren’t going to catch him anytime fast. So unless he tripped they were in for a forest visit.  
This was just one of those days when everything went wrong. When she had left her flat that morning it had been raining, hard, so she ended up in a traffic jam of mythical proportions. Once arrived at Thames House, she had been confronted with Harry Pearce’s legendary bad temper. He had been moody and grumpy for weeks now, but that morning’s shouting had been ten times worse. Fortunately for her Ben and Jo had found the current address of their suspect before it could get too bad, after which she had taken Jo and Lucas with her to arrest him. Foolishly she had led herself to believe that she could easily handle one single man without any help from the cavalry. So when he had knocked her against a doorpost, hit Lucas on the head with a frying pan and had made Jo trip over a pile of shoes, she was cursing her own stupidity and pride as well as that bloody man’s cleverness.  
‘Harry, I need the cavalry here, NOW!’ she yelled into the small microphone hidden away in her jacket.  
‘They are only five minutes away, Ros,’ came Malcolm’s voice into her earpiece.  
‘We don’t have five minutes, Malcolm!’ she shouted angrily. The terrifying effect was somewhat lessened by her panting. ‘He’s making for the woods. We’re bloody losing him!’ And that was one thing she could not stand for. Upon her reinstatement in Section D only weeks ago she had promised herself that she would make no more mistakes from now on. It would appear that was a promise she would end up breaking today.  
‘Five minutes, Ros,’ Malcolm repeated calmly. How he could keep that calm was entirely beyond her, but as it was, it infuriated her only further.  
‘Well, then you tell them to make it two,’ she hissed.  
‘Ros, no heroics, you hear me?’ Harry’s voice said in her left ear. He sounded a little worried.  
Ros gave a clipped ‘Yeah’ in reply, which they both knew meant exactly the opposite. It had become something of a ritual for them. Harry had become idiotically protective of her since her latest try at heroism, which had led to her latest near-death experience. So since then, every time she found herself in a potentially dangerous situation he would tell her not to try and be the hero and she would tell him that she wouldn’t. But if trying to be the hero was what it took to get this moron, then that was what she would do and they both knew it.  
Lucas risked firing a shot at their man’s back, but he missed by at least a meter. It was too hard to aim properly when both hunter and hunted were running at neck breaking speed. He fired a second bullet, which embedded itself in a nearby tree, while the terrorist quickly bolted into the woods.  
‘He’s in the forest now,’ Ros reported to the Grid. ‘Where the hell is the back-up?’  
‘Four minutes,’ Malcolm told her.  
‘Not good enough,’ she said. She ignored her burning lungs and the cramps in her legs and tried to increase her speed a little further. She kept her eyes firmly on the back of their terrorist, or rather, the leader of the terrorists. This was one of those men that commanded others to do the dirty work of blowing themselves and the people around them sky-high, while he made himself comfortable with a book by the fire, although it would seem that this one had also spent considerable time at the nearest sports centre. This one was also a coward. Ros didn’t think it would take much effort to get the information they wanted from him, but for that they had to catch him first.  
She decided that they weren’t going to catch him, chasing him like this, anytime soon. He obviously wasn’t tired of running and chances were that he had someone with a car waiting for him on the other end of the forest. He was after all a high-ranking Al-Qaeda operative. He would have contacts and he would be a fool if he hadn’t contacted one of those. And she had decided that she was not going to lose him again.  
No, the only way they could get him was bluff. If she could just keep him talking until the back-up arrived, then they would finally have him. ‘You’re surrounded, Samir!’ she yelled after him.  
He half-tripped, but recovered soon enough. ‘You’re lying!’ he shouted.  
Ros was about to pretend to give some fake order to non-existent gunmen when they came into a clearing and they all skidded to an immediate stop…

***

It was just another normal day in the life of Merlin, the secret save-the-day-behind-the-scenes-warlock of Camelot. So that meant he found himself sitting on a horse with a painful bottom, while Arthur was hunting some poor defenceless animal to take his mind off the ever so boring business of state.  
Merlin had never liked hunting at all. Apart from the fact that he despised the idea of killing animals for fun, there hadn’t been a single hunt for as long as he had been living in Camelot when not something had gone terribly wrong. Whether it was just a very angry wild boar that seemed to have decided that Arthur looked like a delicious lunch, the ever present bandits or a magical creature like a questing beast, there was always something to spoil the hunt. So why exactly Arthur still liked to do it was entirely beyond him.  
Merlin remembered that Morgana had once, in those good old days that she was still good, asked Arthur if he thought that killing things mended a broken heart and Arthur had replied that it was just good fun. But there had been some truth in Morgana’s assumption, because after Uther’s death three weeks ago, Arthur had spent a considerable amount of time on his favourite pastime.   
But there were all kinds of reasons why he would suddenly find himself in situations like this: Arthur had a broken heart, Arthur had an appetite for fresh meat, Arthur had guests he wanted to entertain or Arthur was just bored. Today’s reason was that Arthur was absolutely fed up with the endless council sessions and with that Merlin could sympathise. There was only so much council chatter one could take. It was just the way that Arthur had chosen to remedy it that bothered Merlin.  
This was just one of those days that everything went wrong, regardless what you did. Fortunately he had woken on time, which meant that he could serve Arthur his breakfast just after sunrise. He had gotten a few goblets and one apple thrown at his head for the trouble. Once he finally had gotten the king out of bed he went about his usual chores as Arthur dressed. That was when the second disaster had occurred, because Arthur was having trouble getting his belt to fit. Merlin, who knew that Arthur had been putting on weight since his coronation, had made some stupid remark about a fat king whose belt needed enhancing and had been rewarded for that cheek with a helmet to the back of his head. Arthur had then announced that they were going hunting today. He had sent Merlin down to the kitchens to get lunch, enough for them and the knights who were going to accompany him and of course Merlin’s clumsiness kicked in at the most unfortunate moment. He had tripped over his own feet and had dropped the supplies all over the place, causing a few other servants to trip and fall as well.  
It was a small wonder nothing really bad had happened until now, but Merlin wasn’t going to cheer in advance. They still had the entire afternoon before them. There was still plenty of time for bad guys or magical creatures to attack them.   
‘What’s wrong with you, Merlin?’ Arthur asked in mock desperation.   
‘Nothing,’ Merlin said, defensive.  
‘I don’t believe that for a second,’ Arthur told him. ‘Come on, what has happened to your usual mindless chatter?’  
Merlin frowned. ‘I thought you hated the chatter, because I kept scaring away the prey by doing it. There’s just no pleasing you sometimes, is there?’  
Arthur laughed. ‘So, you’re finally learning then?’  
Merlin was still thinking about a witty answer when they were all startled by an exploding noise somewhere in the distance. The whole group came to a halt immediately.  
‘What was that?’ Merlin asked. Well, whatever it was, it was bad.   
Before anyone could answer that question they heard the noise again, closer this time. Arthur went into the full hunter mode right away. He started to make gestures with his hands that Merlin still hadn’t completely figured out, but the knights clearly had. They split up, approaching the spot where they had heard the sound with care. Merlin supposed that he could best stay at Arthur’s side, in case that the source of the explosion was dangerous.   
‘You’re surrounded, Samir!’ a woman’s voice yelled. Merlin frowned. A woman was doing this? Correction, an angry woman was doing this. There was no mistaking that furious tone.  
And they must be close now, Merlin thought. They had come into a clearing and he could see shapes moving amongst the trees on the other side. Four people, he counted.   
‘You’re lying!’ a man’s voice shouted. There was a tone of fear underneath all his bravura and Merlin found himself wondering what on earth was going on here. And if the look on Arthur’s face was anything to go by, he wasn’t the only one.  
Next moment they all bolted out of the woods, into the clearing. For a second or so they were all too focused on whatever it was that they were doing to notice the presence of the knights of Camelot, which gave Merlin the chance to look at them.  
The first man, the one that was obviously being chased, had a light-coloured skin and dark hair. There was an expression of pure panic on his face. It reminded Merlin of a rabbit trapped in a snare.  
He was followed, chased, by three other people, two women and a man. The first woman was slender, with blonde hair and green eyes. The determination and anger lying in those eyes were unmistakable. Almost beside her was the man, a dark-haired muscled fellow, holding some kind of iron device, which Merlin guessed was the source of the exploding noise they had just heard. The last chaser was a woman again, with very short blonde hair and wide blue eyes. She too was holding a kind of weapon, which she held pointed at the first man at all times, even though she was running.  
Then they noticed that they were not alone. The hunted man’s face fell a little further as he realised that the woman had spoken the truth, although she had not done that knowingly. He skidded to a stop and his shoulders hunched in defeat.  
The other three stopped as well. The green-eyed woman looked mildly surprised for a second, but then just shrugged, accepting the new situation. She gave them no more than a quick, almost dismissing, glance before she directed her attention back to the first man. ‘You’re surrounded, Samir,’ she pointed out in a sweet voice that was threatening at the same time.   
If anything, that realisation gave Samir new will to fight. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a similar device that the woman and man were already carrying, pointing it at the woman talking to him. Even though they had no idea what exactly this thing was, there was no mistaking the danger it represented.  
Of course that would be when Arthur’s chivalry kicked in. Merlin wondered what it was with Arthur and damsels in distress. He also wondered what Gwen would think about all this. Arthur took his crossbow and aimed it at Samir. ‘Put that down,’ he said in a low voice that spelled trouble for whoever it was used against. ‘And leave the lady alone.’  
The “lady” seemed as surprised as Samir. He turned to look at Camelot’s king, pointing his weapon at Arthur’s chest now. ‘Stay out of this, infidel,’ he snapped.   
Arthur never as much as wavered. ‘Leave the lady alone, Samir,’ he said. ‘Or I’ll have to arrest you.’  
While he was talking to the man, the “lady” was sneaking up on him from behind. Well, if that wasn’t proof enough that she wasn’t the average damsel in distress! By the looks of it, this wasn’t the first time she was doing this.   
She had the gift of very quiet movement. Samir didn’t notice her at all until she grabbed both his wrists. He let out a wail of pure rage and fear. The lady twisted his arm until the weapon was pointing towards the sky and just in time, because another explosion rang out. Merlin, having the gift to slow time with his magic without anyone noticing, slowed time down just enough to see a small leaden object fly into the sky at great speed. He now understood the dangers of this kind of weapon. He could only imagine what damage such a thing could do to the human body.   
The knights all backed away a few paces at the sound of the explosion, but the lady never as much as blinked. She twisted his arm a little further and Samir dropped his weapon with a yelp of pain. She then tackled him, gave him a few kicks in a few very sensitive places and in a matter of seconds Samir was on the ground, with the lady practically sitting on his neck, holding a small knife near his eyes.   
‘If I were you I’d stop struggling,’ she said in a voice that rivalled Arthur’s for threatening. ‘Or I’ll get really annoyed. Do you understand me?’  
Samir nodded and the other man and woman visibly relaxed. The man even chuckled. ‘You know, Ros, when you said you wanted the cavalry, I didn’t think you meant it quite that literally.’ He gave another chuckle and the other woman joined in.   
The lady (Ros?) gave them both a death glare that could even have sent Arthur running for cover. ‘We got him, Control,’ she said to no one in particular. ‘Do you copy?’ She waited a few seconds and then repeated in a voice full of irritation: ‘Control, do you copy?’  
Arthur got off his horse and walked over to her. ‘Are you all right, my lady?’ he asked politely.  
She seemed to have completely forgotten about all of them. She glanced up. ‘Don’t you have other places to be or something?’ she snarled.

***

Ros was used to finding herself in strange situations. Being a spook, that came with the job. But she had to admit that this really was one of the strangest situations ever. She briefly considered that this was Harry Pearce’s idea of a joke, but she dismissed the idea almost as soon as it entered her head. Harry would never do such a thing on an operation. There was too much at stake for that. So, the logical explanation for this situation was that these people were having some kind of medieval dress-up party.  
She glared at the young man who had asked her if she was all right. ‘Don’t you have other places to be or something?’ she snapped at him. So much for the secret part of this operation. There were at least twenty men with this one, which meant that this story would be out in the open within hours. Harry was going to love this. And speaking of Harry, why on earth wasn’t he answering her anymore? Just two minutes ago he had been telling her to do no heroics, something she had ignored, of course. But it wasn’t like him to go off comms in the middle of an operation.   
The man had apparently not gotten the message yet. He looked at both her and Samir, who was having a hard time breathing with her still more or less sitting on his windpipe. ‘Are you sure you are all right, my lady?’ he asked again.   
Ros’s patience had just arrived at an all-time low. ‘Are you deaf?’ she demanded, giving him her iciest stare, the one that was rumoured to have the most terrifying terrorists tremble in fear. ‘You can continue on with your bloody silly dress-up party now. I don’t need your help.’  
And this really was her worst day in weeks, because Samir took the advantage that her temporary distraction gave him. He wriggled his right arm loose and gave her a hard blow on the temple. She fell to the side, blinking rapidly to make the sudden stars disappear. Samir was on his feet immediately, breaking into a run.  
Ros got up as soon as she could see enough, ignoring the dizziness, and went after him. But before she had made three steps, Samir tripped and fell, an arrow sticking out of his right leg. Ros briefly wondered how she was going to explain a crossbow wound to Harry, but she didn’t really care at the moment. All that mattered was that he did not escape again.  
Lucas and Jo jumped on his back at almost the same time. Between them they were easily capable of handling Samir, so Ros turned back to the only reason she had almost let their suspect get away again. He was still standing in the same spot as before, holding his crossbow loosely, looking all too pleased with himself.  
‘You’re welcome, my lady,’ he said.  
He did have some nerve, Ros had to give him that. ‘Didn’t I tell you to get the hell out of here?’ she snapped at him. ‘Get back to whatever festival you were playing at.’  
For the first time there was some irritation visible in his blue eyes. ‘Do you know who I am?’  
‘Don’t care,’ Ros told him truthfully.  
‘My name is Arthur Pendragon,’ he said. ‘At your service,’ he added quickly.  
She snorted. ‘And I’m the emperor of Rome,’ she said sarcastically.  
He seemed to sense that she didn’t believe him, which was a surprise. He wasn’t totally stupid. ‘I am King Arthur Pendragon,’ he repeated.  
She really wasn’t in the mood for these games. ‘Yeah, whatever,’ she said. ‘Now, get the hell out of here, or I’ll have to arrest you as well.’ She turned her back on him and walked back to Lucas, who was binding Samir up so tightly that it was a wonder he could still breathe. ‘Did any of you hear anything from Harry yet?’ she barked at them. Where was that man when they needed him? There also was no sign of the cavalry yet (in the form they had asked for anyway), which led Ros to wonder what the hell was going on. And why were the comms not working anymore? Everything went truly wrong today.  
‘Nothing, Ros,’ Lucas said calmly. He clearly spent way too much time around Malcolm. ‘But we have him.’  
‘It had escaped my notice,’ Ros remarked dryly. ‘Let’s go and leave these idiots play dress-up. Pathetic,’ she added under her breath. Grown man that dressed up like the famous king Arthur and his bloody knights.  
Lucas chuckled. ‘Come on, Ros, don’t tell me you never did it.’  
‘The last time was when I was six,’ she informed him. ‘Not thirty-six, thanks so very much. Get him up, will you?’ She turned back to the wannabe king and his wannabe knights, swinging her identification card in front of “Arthur’s” nose. ‘If any of you breathes as much as a word about this to anyone, I’ll have you locked up in jail before you can blink your eyes. Understood?’  
“Arthur” blinked a few times, but it seemed she had finally succeeded in shutting him up. Not wanting to be around for when he did find his tongue again, she turned back, grabbed Samir’s shoulder in a death grip and marched him away from the clearing, back to the village, mission completed.

***

Samir was transported to Thames House, where he was treated for his arrow wound and then interrogated about everything that Al-Qaeda was planning. Ros and Harry had a lengthy and very loud discussion about heroics and the workings of microphones and earpieces, which ended up in the drinking of a glass of whisky.   
The party from Camelot spent the rest of the afternoon unsuccessfully trying to detect any trace of wildlife and then went back to Camelot for dinner. The incident in the woods was discussed at length, but since nobody could make sense of it, it was dropped after a day or two and then soon forgotten by all, except Merlin. After all, strange things happened more often in Camelot and people had come to accept them without asking too many questions.  
Some interesting theories came up in the tavern where the knights talked the whole incident over, but none of them involved a magical portal somewhere in the woods. For now, it just was there, undetected and unsuspected. But maybe, just maybe, this was not the last time someone went through it to a different time…


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ros and Lucas go out to investigate and Arthur finds a way to "deal" with his duties for the day.

**Chapter 2**

 

Ros looked the report over one last time and then saved it on her computer, leaning back in her chair. She was glad this whole incident had been properly dealt with. Samir had, as she had already thought, told them all they wanted to know in a matter of hours after his arrest. So much for the legendary religious fanaticism, Ros thought sarcastically. When it came down to it, Samir cared more about his life than his religion, for which Ros and the entire team were extremely grateful. It had even brought back some sort of smile to Harry’s face and heaven knew that was a hard thing to come by lately.

‘Coffee, boss?’ Lucas placed a mug of steaming hot black coffee in front of her and then perched himself on the side of her desk, holding a mug of his own.

‘What’s the point in asking if you already brought me one?’ she asked, raising one eyebrow.

He gave her his trademark smile that usually charmed every female within a ten meter radius. Only Ros seemed to be immune to it. ‘Just being polite,’ he said.

She was tempted to roll her eyes. Being polite? Yeah, sure. ‘What do you want, Lucas?’

He ignored the question. ‘Finished your report?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, you finished yours?’ she shot back.

‘Still working out some details,’ he replied.

‘Working out some details?’ Ros echoed. ‘How many bloody details can there possibly be? It isn’t like there were so many. It’s a report, Lucas, not an FSB interrogation.’

The quick expression of pain that crossed his face indicated that she might have gone too far with that, but since apologising wasn’t in the Ros Myers dictionary, she kept her mouth firmly shut and waited until he had himself under control again.

When he spoke again, his voice was remarkably cooler than it had been before, but the smile was firmly back in place, although it did look a bit forced. ‘I did some digging into that medieval dress-up,’ he told her. ‘Turns out that there actually wasn’t one.’

She groaned. ‘Lucas, I don’t have time for this. There was a medieval dress-up, party, festival, whatever going on there that day. We’ve seen them, remember?’

‘We did,’ he agreed. ‘CCTV didn’t.’ He glanced at her computer. ‘May I?’

‘Go ahead.’

He logged in and opened a file containing a lot of CCTV images of the various roads leading to the town and the little patch of forest near it. ‘No matter by which road they came to that forest, they must have been seen by at least one camera,’ Lucas told her. He skipped past several images of different roads, none of them showing the men they had encountered in the woods. ‘Now, I’ve looked it back for an entire week, but they are nowhere to be seen. So unless you want to suggest that they came falling out of the sky…’ He looked at her with the hint of a twinkle in his eyes.

Ros couldn’t help but being impressed with his skills on the computer. Not that she would ever be heard to be telling him that, but it could not have been easy for him, having the last eight years spent in a Russian cell where he did not have access to any of the new technological developments. For someone who had only been back from that nightmare for mere weeks, Lucas had caught up with the latest developments quicker than could have been expected of anyone.

‘So, they were not picked up by CCTV,’ she concluded. ‘Have you considered that they might not have come over the road?’

He nodded. ‘I did. So I went through the local companies and farmers’ private security cameras as well and they cover about ninety-five per cent of the missing areas.’

‘Ninety-five?’ Ros asked sceptically.

‘Apparently there’s been a lot of theft around there,’ Lucas replied. ‘People have been installing camera’s left, right and centre. But the point is that they don’t show up on those camera’s either.’

And he had only what… three days to have done all that work? There was no way he could have had time to do his little digging any earlier, because since Samir’s arrest two and a half weeks ago, they had been too busy following up on the information he had given them. Only the last three days had given them some time to do other things as well, and that was not a lot of time either. Lucas must have done most of this in his own time, the time he was supposed to be either eating or sleeping.

She had to give it to him; he was very thorough when it came to his job. She had not exactly been thrilled when Harry had reinstated him so soon after his release from Russia, so she had tried to avoid him a little. But now she found herself wondering if maybe she might just be able to work with him. He was even more driven than she was and she had always thought that _she_ was a workaholic.

‘But that’s impossible,’ she stated. ‘They must have come from somewhere. And I don’t see why this is even relevant. It isn’t like they were such a big trouble. At least they’ve kept their mouth shut.’

‘Yeah, but it was only when they arrived that the comms suddenly stopped working,’ Lucas pointed out. ‘I thought it was just a little too much coincidence, so I decided to investigate. You don’t believe in coincidence, do you?’

She snorted. ‘Maybe I will when England wins the World Cup and Harry starts liking politicians,’ she said sarcastically. There was no spy in existence who believed in coincidence. Spooks were a suspicious lot, after all. She glanced at the pictures on her screen again. ‘Have you told Harry about this?’

He shook his head. ‘I wanted to square it with you first. Get your opinion on it. Hear your thoughts.’ He shrugged.

Maybe that was the truth, but if it was, it wasn’t all of it. Ros had been in the Service long enough to know when someone was lying, and Lucas North definitely was. And you would have to be a blind fool not to notice that Lucas was avoiding Harry, something that worried her. Malcolm had quietly mentioned that they had behaved as father and son before Lucas had gone to Russia. The fact that they weren’t doing that now, indicated that there was something wrong and Ros had a fairly good idea what that was.

‘You don’t blame Harry for Russia, do you?’ she asked sharply.

‘No, of course not,’ he said, just a little too quick, thus confirming her suspicions. He continued on about their previous subject as fast as he could: ‘The point is that whoever they are, they have gone through a great deal of trouble to keep out of sight and they showed up at exactly the time that we were chasing a high-level terrorist.’

Ros grudgingly had to admit that that indeed was suspicious. She should have looked at it herself. She was the bloody Section Chief! She should have noticed such things before anyone else. It was bugging her that it was Lucas who had found out.

But it didn’t make any sense and she told him as much. ‘So, what you’re basically saying is that a bunch of wannabe knights dress up, go through a lot of trouble to avoid being seen and then show up to shoot our man with a crossbow? Why the bloody crossbow? Didn’t the sodding things go out of fashion centuries ago?’ She remembered something. ‘And why introduce yourself as King Arthur?’

The smile was back for real now. ‘If I remember correctly you introduced yourself as the emperor of Rome.’

‘Ha bloody ha,’ she said dryly. ‘It just doesn’t add up, Lucas.’

He looked at her. ‘Which is why we probably should find out.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘We’ve got a few hours left. I thought that maybe we could drive down there, look what we can find?’ He looked at her expectantly.

Ros hesitated. It was true that there were too many things wrong with the things Lucas had discovered to simply let it go and if those knights, for lack of a better word, presented a threat to national security, they had probably waited too long already. But as it were, they were also working hard on Ben’s undercover mission. Based on Samir’s information they had been infiltrating Ben into a small Al-Qaeda terror cell, which was probably going to launch a major attack on London in the next few weeks.

Before she could decide, Connie walked over to her desk, holding a stack of papers. ‘The transcripts from Samir’s supposedly secret mobile phone, Ros,’ she announced. ‘Everything from the last four weeks before his arrest.’ She sounded rather too pleased with herself.

That collection of paper made up her mind for her. ‘Then do what you’re bloody well paid to do, Connie,’ she snapped at the senior analyst. ‘Analyse the stuff.’

Connie eyed her warily. ‘I thought you said…’

She shut down her computer and got up, grabbing her jacket from a nearby chair. ‘Change of plan. Lucas and I are going fishing. And unless Al-Qaeda’s planning on detonating a bomb within twelve hours on the streets of London, I don’t want to be disturbed.’ She left Connie standing at her desk and marched over to the pods, with Lucas following in her wake. By the looks of it he was congratulating himself that he had gotten her to allow this investigation. ‘Don’t look so pleased with yourself,’ she snapped. ‘If we don’t find anything today, we’re going to let it go. You finish that report, hand it in and leave it to Harry to decide whether he wants to do something with it. Deal?’ Not that he could do much else. The question was more a demand than a nice request.

‘Fair enough,’ he agreed.

They stepped through the pods and made for the car park.

 

***

 

Life in Camelot was finally normal again, or as normal as life in Camelot ever was, at least. Merlin seriously doubted if there were any other kingdoms in existence where a king’s manservant would ever be enchanted to try and kill said king. And now he found himself also wondering how many other kingdoms there were where said manservant had to literally drag said king from his bed. He briefly wondered what tricks George had had to use to get Arthur to get out. Maybe he should have asked him during his one week training.

And today was just one of those days. He arrived at Arthur’s room just after sunrise, going over the king’s schedule in his head one last time. Arthur should seriously consider getting a personal secretary, because at the moment it would seem that Merlin was his external memory and he wasn’t sure if he liked that.

Arthur was still fast asleep, mouth half opened, snoring softly. Merlin remembered Gwen once saying something about a pig in the house and he bit back a smile. How right she had been.

He opened the curtains. ‘Up you get!’ he said cheerfully. If there was enough light in the room Arthur would always wake up. Sound couldn’t wake him, but light always could.

‘What for?’ came Arthur’s muffled voice from somewhere between the pillows the king used to shield his eyes from the light.

Merlin pulled away the blankets. ‘A bath,’ he replied. Heavens knew the king needed one.

‘Where’s breakfast?’ Arthur demanded, still making no move to get up.

Merlin internally groaned. Arthur really did most of his thinking with his stomach. But then, the results of that lifestyle were obvious in the number of holes in his belts. And they really did not have time for all of this. So he took the piece of bread from Arthur’s plate and told him: ‘Say ah.’

Arthur’s brain was still too sleepy to protest. ‘Ah?’

Merlin used the opportunity to stuff the bread in his mouth, earning him a muffled and irritated ‘Merlin!’ He was glad he had remembered today to keep all the heavy objects away from the bed so that they wouldn’t end up being thrown at his head.

While Arthur was spluttering on, struggling to get the bread out of his mouth again, Merlin walked over to Arthur’s desk, picking up the king’s schedule. ‘I set aside some practise time,’ he said.

Arthur’s face lit up. ‘Now, wonderful. What for? Quarterstaff? Battle axe?’

Merlin almost felt guilty about crushing his hopes. Almost. ‘Your speech,’ he corrected.

And indeed the king’s face fell immediately. ‘Who to?’ he asked without enthusiasm, but at least he was leaning on his elbows now, looking up at his servant. Merlin considered that progress. Maybe he wouldn’t be forced to drag Arthur out of bed today.

‘Guild of harness polishers,’ he informed him.

‘Guild of who?’ Arthur echoed. ‘I don’t know anything about polishing!’

Sometimes it really was nice to be able to write his speeches, especially when they were about something he knew all about, like harness polishing. Merlin showed the scroll with the speech to Arthur, feeling really proud of his hard work. He had stayed up until after midnight to get it done. ‘Fortunately I do.’

Arthur’s disbelieving face was totally worth it. ‘That’ll take hours to learn.’

‘You don’t have hours,’ Merlin said, pointing out the obvious. He checked the schedule again. ‘First, you’re to receive Odin’s envoy.’

‘Do I have to give a speech?’ Arthur asked warily.

Well, at least he could reassure the king on this one. ‘No, you’ll have to listen to one. Then you’ll have to inspect the guards, perform a freeman’s ceremony and…’ He couldn’t help but grin as he read the last thing on the list.

‘What?’ Arthur demanded.

‘You’re going to be a judge,’ the warlock said.

This got him Arthur’s full attention. He worked himself up in what could almost be called a sitting position. ‘Preside over a trial?’ he asked in a disbelieving voice.

Merlin’s face split into one of his enormous grins. ‘A garland competition!’

That might not have been the smartest thing to say in hindsight. Arthur threw himself back onto the bed, pulling the covers back over himself. ‘Don’t I get any time to myself?’ he complained.

‘I know, it’s almost like having to work,’ Merlin teased, before walking over to the bed to do what he was clearly forced to do. ‘Come on, we don’t have time for this.’

Arthur protested loudly as Merlin first pulled away the covers Arthur was desperately trying to hold on to, and then pulled him out of bed with blankets and all. He left Arthur on the floor, ignoring the fact that the king was trying to make himself comfortable there. This wasn’t very unusual and he knew that that cold stone floor was bound to become very uncomfortable very soon, which meant that Arthur would probably get up soon enough.

‘You’re doing very well, Arthur,’ he told the king while he was gathering his clothes.

‘I don’t think so,’ Arthur replied from under the blankets.

‘Everyone’s saying it,’ he insisted.

‘I’m glad your friends at the tavern approve.’

Merlin tried and failed not to frown. That joke was seriously getting old. He hadn’t even been in the tavern for years and if Arthur had taken the trouble to actually go there he would find that out soon enough. What on earth had possessed Gaius to tell Arthur he was in the tavern every time he needed to pop out for an hour or two anyway? Why couldn’t he just tell the king that he was collecting herbs or something like that?

‘I’m serious,’ Merlin said, trying to get Arthur up, which was hard work, seen as the king wasn’t cooperating in the slightest. ‘You’re becoming a very good king.’

‘Thank you,’ Arthur said, finally deciding to give in and just get up. ‘You’re still the worst servant I’ve ever known. Any possibility of getting me an hour or so of free time?’

‘Not at all,’ Merlin told him, handing him his shirt. ‘Come on, you’ve got to hurry. Odin’s envoy will be here within the hour.’

‘I don’t want to listen to a speech,’ Arthur moaned, back in complete sulking mood. ‘I want to go on a hunt.’

‘Well, you can’t,’ Merlin said. Honestly, Arthur may be on his way to become a very good king, but it was probably a good thing other people never saw him like this or they might indeed start to doubt his leadership abilities.

Someone knocked on the door. ‘Enter!’ Arthur yelled.

Lord Agravaine entered the room and all of a sudden Arthur’s face split into a huge grin. ‘Yes, I can,’ he said to Merlin in a hushed and triumphant voice, before turning to Agravaine. ‘Uncle!’ he said overly cheerful.

Agravaine was completely taken by surprise by his nephew’s high spirits. Arthur’s morning tempers were infamous in Camelot and the chances of seeing Arthur Pendragon in a good mood before lunchtime were rarer than the chances of finding a four-leaf clover. Merlin knew Arthur well enough to know what he was playing at and sighed. He remembered telling Kilgharrah once that this Arthur couldn’t possibly be the Once and Future King, because this Arthur was an idiot. In moments like this he was suddenly reminded why exactly he had thought that.

‘Good morning, my lord,’ Agravaine said, totally unsuspecting. ‘May I have a word?’

‘Of course,’ Arthur said. ‘Please be seated. As it is, I was just about to send Merlin to get you.’

Merlin knew that was not true, but Agravaine didn’t know. He looked rather pleased that Arthur had been about to ask his advice about something. ‘What is on your mind, Arthur?’ the lord asked.

‘A report has just come in containing some disturbing rumours from one of the outlying villages,’ Arthur lied without blinking. ‘This requires my immediate attention, so I will leave here immediately after breakfast. I’ll need you to take over my duties today.’

Agravaine might have been protesting or questioning Arthur’s very weak cover story, were it not that he relished the chance of being in charge, even if only for a day. ‘Of course, Arthur,’ he replied hastily. ‘I understand completely.’

Arthur offered him a warm smile. ‘Thank you, uncle. Why don’t you have breakfast with me and I’ll let Merlin talk you through today’s schedule?’

Merlin might have been feeling sorry for Agravaine had he not been the foul traitor who was helping Morgana wreak havoc on Camelot. He also suspected Arthur’s uncle of trying to undermine Arthur’s authority, but today’s schedule would hardly allow him any time to think, let alone time to cause any damage. He cheerfully listed Arthur’s duties for the day, making a few up as he went along. That would give Arthur some free time in the coming week. With each task he mentioned Agravaine’s face fell a little further, with the absolute most brilliant moment when Merlin told him that he had to be a judge at a garland competition. Agravaine did not moan loudly after which he threw himself back on the bed in despair, but it was still obvious that the traitor lord was less than pleased with the way things were going. No doubt he already regretted the promise to take over Arthur’s duties.

‘If that is all, my lord,’ he said, standing up. ‘I have duties to perform.’

 _Yes, indeed_ , Merlin though happily. _And a lot of them too_. Maybe it was childish, but he liked every second of this. He knew very well that Arthur would never believe him if he pointed his finger at Agravaine saying ‘He’s the traitor you’re looking for!’, but it felt good to get back to him in any way he could, no matter how childish.

‘Of course,’ Arthur said with an indulgent smile. ‘I understand completely.’

Agravaine was wise enough not to comment on his own words used back at him. He bowed and left the room, maybe closing the door a little harder than necessary.

Arthur leaned back in his chair, looking at Merlin with a wide smile that betrayed how pleased he was with himself. ‘So, let’s go on a hunt,’ he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked it. Next chapter should be up tomorrow. Oh, and about the time setting, this story begins around Merlin 4x07 and just before Spooks 7x03. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ros and Lucas search for the "knights" and find...

 

It was actually good to be out in the field again, Ros thought as the car sped towards the village. One thing was for sure: she wasn’t made to spend all her time behind a desk. For the past weeks that was all she had been doing, digging through paperwork or interrogating Samir the I-really-don’t-know-anything-else-I-swear-terrorist. He had told them everything they had wanted to know and now they were finally done with him, for which Ros was grateful. She didn’t think she could stand his whimpering for a minute longer. He would now be transported to prison, but she doubted he would ever arrive there. By now there would be a price on his head, because Al-Qaeda didn’t take nicely in general to people who went telling their secrets to MI-5. Well, Ros couldn’t care less. She had seen a long list of things Samir had done or had ordered to be done. The world would be well rid of him.

She still wasn’t sure if Lucas was right about the knights and she had meant what she said. If they wouldn’t find any clues this afternoon, they would drop it and pass it on to Harry to let him make the decision. She wasn’t exactly comfortable with going behind his back, but if this turned out to be nothing, she had much rather not disturb him. Another shouting match wasn’t exactly high on her to-do list.

Harry had been different since Adam’s death, she reflected. He hadn’t smashed an entire hotel room to pieces like she had done and for which she was still very ashamed, because Ros Myers didn’t lose control, ever. Harry had reacted with a violent longing for vengeance, which he had gotten in the end. But, as Ros had half expected, he had found out that it didn’t exactly change anything. Adam was still dead and now he had to come to terms with that.

She had been so deep in thought that she only half heard Lucas talk to her. ‘Sorry?’

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

‘Nothing,’ she snapped.

He raised his eyebrows. ‘I thought I saw…’

Shit, there had been a few tears rolling down her cheek and she hadn’t even noticed. Things must have been far worse than she had thought, because another rule of Ros’s said that she did not cry in public, ever, unless it was required by an operation. This didn’t technically count as an operation.

‘It’s all right,’ Lucas said. ‘It’s okay to cry when you lose someone.’ 

She gave him a death glare. ‘Has Jo been gossiping? Or was it Malcolm?’ She could only imagine what those two had been telling him about her and Adam Carter, including how she had managed to ruin it all by getting involved with Yalta. If there was one thing she was sure she wouldn’t want Lucas to know, it was that particular story. He would never understand. And how could he? He had stayed loyal to his country for eight years in that Russian hell, while she had willingly and knowingly betrayed it because she was pissed off with the Americans. They were as different as day to night in that respect.

He at least had the decency to look a little ashamed. ‘Both,’ he admitted.

She moaned. Now it was for certain that he knew everything she didn’t want him to know. Jo wouldn’t deliberately tell him all the bad things she had done, but Ros had more than enough experience with her younger colleague’s attitude. Jo was convinced that the team should not hide secrets from each other, because that was all they ever did outside Thames House. On the Grid at least they should be open with one another. But since Ros’s record wasn’t exactly spotless, she was very much opposed to that.

‘Don’t be angry with them, Ros,’ he pleaded. ‘They didn’t mean any harm.’

 _I know_. ‘It wasn’t their bloody business whatever was or wasn’t going on between Adam and me,’ she snapped. ‘And neither is it yours. So keep your eyes on the road and speed this thing up a bit. I’d like to arrive there before Christmas.’

‘It’s okay, Ros,’ he said again. ‘I lost someone, too, remember?’

She blinked a few times and then recalled that Lucas had only found out that his wife had divorced him when he had come home from Russia, when she had already remarried and gotten a child by her second husband. Elizabeta wasn’t dead like Adam was, but she was still very much out of Lucas’s reach. Maybe the situations weren’t that different. Not that she would ever tell him that.

‘I’m not suffering from amnesia,’ she told him instead.

She looked at the road and realised they were nearing their destination. She was grateful for that, because this was becoming one of the most awkward drives she had ever made. She wasn’t comfortable with anyone going all emotional on her, especially someone she didn’t know very well yet.

Lucas finally kept his eyes where they should be: on the road. ‘Look, Ros,’ he said, pointing at a handmade board at the side of the road.

She looked. It was an announcement for some kind of medieval festival that was going to take place in two weeks’ time. ‘There’s your answer,’ she commented dryly.

‘Might be,’ he said. ‘Doesn’t explain the comms going dead.’

She was about to agree when her phone began to ring. She took it out of her pocket. ‘It’s Harry,’ she said, before answering. ‘Ros Myers.’

‘What do you think you are doing, Rosalind?’ came Harry’s angry voice. ‘Connie told me that Lucas and you just walked out to “go fishing.” Do you care to explain what the hell you think you’re up to?’

Ros cursed under her breath. Leave it to Connie to run to Harry to give them away. Sometimes she really was the strict schoolteacher keeping the naughty children in check. She must have gone straight to the headmaster of Section D. Maybe now would be a good time to remind her that Ros Myers was the Section Chief and not Connie James. She did so not need to answer to the senior analyst and it was about time Connie learned that lesson. She might be older and more experienced, but she was not in charge. It was difficult enough for Ros as it was. She didn’t need someone undermining her authority as well.

‘We’re following up a piece of information that Lucas has found,’ she replied as calmly as she could. Knowing there was every chance Harry would have Malcolm trace this phone call, she added: ‘Concerning the day of Samir’s arrest. There might be another reason than technical failure for us going off comms.’

‘And you didn’t think it would be a good idea to brief me before you were leaving?’ Harry’s voice was dangerously low.

‘I’ll brief the entire team tomorrow morning,’ she replied. ‘Right now we do not have enough to fill one minute of briefing.’ She glanced outside and saw that they were already in the village and that Lucas was looking for a parking spot. ‘I’ll call you when we have found something.’

‘If you don’t, I’ll make sure that you’ll be serving tea for the next decade,’ Harry threatened.

‘Yeah,’ Ros said, knowing very well that he would never make good on that threat.

‘Oh, and Ros? No heroics. You hear me?’

She gave her ‘Yeah’ and then hung up. Lucas had found a nice spot near the centre of the town. She got out, looking around her.

‘What do you think about a cup of coffee first?’ he asked.

‘Lucas, we’re here to work!’ she protested. ‘We’re not here to see the bloody sights. Not that there are any.’

‘I know,’ he said, grinning in that very charming way. ‘But the owner of the village pub might know something.’

‘Well, if it’s a woman, I’m sure you can simply charm her into telling you everything you want to know,’ Ros commented dryly. ‘I’m going to have a look around. Meet me here in half an hour.’ She had no ambition to watch how Lucas extracted information from people. It stung a little to know that he was better at it than she was and she knew exactly why that was. She wasn’t a social person. If people gave her the information she wanted, that was because she had frightened them into it. If Lucas got information, it was because people wanted to tell him. In that particular way he reminded her of Adam. He had had a way with people too.

It would have made her search a whole lot easier if she knew what she was actually searching for. So she just walked around, checking for places where twenty men and twenty horses could get to unseen. She found out that there were none. She also kept an eye out for passers-by that looked like the wannabe knights, but no one that she saw looked even vaguely like them.

She came back five minutes early, only to discover that Lucas had beaten her there. He was standing in front of the board showing a detailed map of the village and surrounding areas, listening to an elderly woman who was talking to him. Lucas’s face was showing an expression of faked enthusiastic interest in whatever she was saying. Ros bit back a smile. It looked like he had run into the village gossiper.

‘Ah, Rebecca!’ he called when he noticed her, addressing her by her agreed alias for the day. ‘Come over here!’

She forced her face into a friendly smile, something some people whispered would surely take up all her energy, and joined them. ‘Good afternoon,’ she greeted.

‘Good afternoon, my dear,’ the woman said. ‘You must be Leon’s girlfriend.’

It took a lot of effort not to give Lucas a death glare and pretend that she was the girlfriend he had mentioned. ‘First name terms already?’ she said in a light teasing voice. ‘Should I be jealous?’ She laid a hand on Lucas’s arm.

The woman laughed, patting her on the arm. ‘No need to worry, dear.’

‘Mrs Bishop was just telling me about the festival, Becca,’ Lucas said. ‘And I told her that we were considering to visit it.’

‘Yes, I would really like to see that,’ Ros told the talkative Mrs Bishop. ‘My parents went to such a festival once. I think it might even have been in this village.’ She made a face as if she was thinking hard. ‘Don’t you have such a festival more often?’

That seemed to be the trigger to start talking. ‘Oh, yes, to be sure!’ the old woman said. ‘It’s an annual event and a great success every time. There’s music and dancing and everyone comes dressed up in medieval clothes.’ There was a short awkward silence as Mrs Bishop took in Ros’s appearance with her jeans, high-heeled boots and leather jacket, the thought clear as day on her face that she didn’t think that Leon’s girlfriend was the type to dress up for a medieval festival. Ros couldn’t even blame her. She didn’t think she was the type either.

It was of course Lucas who broke the silence. ‘That will take a lot of preparation,’ he assumed.

‘Yes, everyone has been busy for months,’ Mrs Bishop agreed immediately.

‘A friend of mine was in the neighbourhood a few weeks ago. He says he even saw a few men dressed up as knights near the forest,’ Lucas told her.

‘Knights?’ she said, as if she’d never even heard the word before. ‘We don’t do knights at the festival! What if someone got hurt?’

Lucas shrugged. ‘My friend just thought they were practising for the festival,’ he said casually. ‘It could be for something else entirely.’

‘That must be it,’ she said. She acted like the very idea of having knights who might have weapons had almost caused her to suffer a heart attack. ‘I’ve never seen anyone dress up as a knight before.’

 _That must be one bloody boring festival_ , Ros thought. She would have to make sure that Leon Nolan and Rebecca Moore had other and better things to do in two weeks’ time, because there was no way that she was going to go. She wasn’t sure if she could keep up the pretence of enthusiasm then. There was a limit to even her acting skills.

She looked at her watch and pretended to be shocked. ‘Oh, is that the time already? Leon, we really should be going.’ She looked at Mrs Bishop, a false smile on her face. ‘I am so sorry, but we must go. I hope you don’t mind?’

‘Of course not, dear,’ she assured her. Her smile was as false as Ros’s and she got a feeling the old woman didn’t like her either.

Ros smiled again and then turned around, walking away. Lucas followed some seconds later. ‘She’s gone,’ he informed her. The corners of his mouth were curling up. She didn’t have to be a spy to know that he was trying and failing to bite back his laughter.

‘Are you going to tell me the joke or do you want me to put you in an interrogation room?’ she asked dryly.

His expression told her that was not funny and she remembered just a second too late that jokes about interrogations were never amusing to people who had been locked up, tortured and interrogated for eight long years. But at least it got that stupid grin off his face.

‘Our dear Mrs Bishop reckons I should get myself a nicer kind of girlfriend,’ he replied and the grin returned as he told her that, for which Ros was secretly grateful. It had really not been her intention to drag up memories that were painful to him. ‘She thinks you’re a cold creature who will drop me as soon as she has grown tired of me.’

Ros snorted. ‘It’s always nice to make an impression,’ she said sarcastically. ‘What did you tell her?’

‘I stood up for you, of course,’ he said, pretending to be offended that she could even think anything else. ‘I told her that you weren’t that good with strangers, but that you really are a nice person when she would have gotten the chance to get to know you better.’ 

‘I would be touched if I thought you actually meant that,’ she remarked.

‘Oh, but I do,’ he said, not a trace of humour in his voice. 

Ros was trained enough in recognising lies and this didn’t feel like one. Now she _was_ actually touched. She had been snapping a lot at Lucas lately, because she didn’t fully trust him yet, but they had also been exchanging quips and sarcastic comments. Most people didn’t like that, but it would seem that Lucas North was one of the few who appreciated and understood it.

It was a strange experience to be called nice by anyone anyway. People said a lot of things about Ros, but the word nice was never among them. And she couldn’t blame them either. Nice was not a word she herself would use to describe her. Nonetheless, it felt pleasant to hear someone saying it, knowing they meant it.

 _Get a grip, Rosalind_ , she told herself. _You’re not going to go soft here. You’re still on a bloody operation. Focus!_

‘Let’s go and take a look at that clearing again,’ she proposed, not reacting to his kind words.

‘Of course, Rosa,’ he said, hooking his arm through hers, which would give the impression of them being a couple.

She pulled her arm back and this time she did give him one of her infamous glares. ‘Call me that again and it will be _you_ serving tea for the next decade,’ she threatened. The last one who had called her that had been her father, who was still in prison for his part in the failed conspiracy to overthrow the government a few years ago, a reminder which she could have done without.

Lucas gave her a look that clearly told her that he didn’t understand. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to…’

‘I know you didn’t,’ she interrupted him. ‘Let’s go, Lucas.’

‘At lease we know that no one here has ever seen those knights,’ he concluded when they were out of the village.

Ros thought that was rather stating the obvious, but she appreciated that he was trying to change the subject, so she chose not to comment on it for once. ‘You mean that if our Mrs Bishop hasn’t heard of any knights, there’s a good chance of them having not been in the village.’

He laughed. ‘I’m rather grateful you came to rescue me. I thought it would be a good idea to pretend to be a policeman today, because that would make her more willing to talk to me, but…’

‘Then there was no stopping her,’ Ros finished.

‘Something like that,’ Lucas said, nodding. ‘She was just telling me about her noisy neighbour when you showed up and I finally got the chance to tell her that I was not on duty today.’ He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Guess I’ve lost my touch a bit.’

‘Nonsense,’ she said briskly. ‘You handled the situation very well back there. Police is a good cover most of the time. And she did tell us what we wanted to know.’ It wasn’t really in her nature to praise her officers’ achievements, but she couldn’t have Lucas undermining himself either. She wasn’t telling him this because she liked him, she told herself. It was just a matter of efficiency. If he wasn’t working to the best of his abilities, that could threaten every operation he was involved with.

And Lucas was a brilliant spook, there was no denying that. His help had been invaluable to put an end to the Russian operation and it was his work that had put Arkady Kachimov in their hands. It was that what had put him back in Section D. No one doubted his abilities, Ros least of all. She hated to admit it, but if there was anyone who could replace Adam Carter, only on professional level of course, it would be Lucas North.

He gave her a warm look. ‘Thanks, Ros.’

‘Did the owner of the pub have something useful to say?’ she asked.

He shook his head. ‘He didn’t actually like the whole festival, because that means he’s working around the clock for three days in a row.’ He grinned at her. ‘I told him that I frequently work like that for weeks on end and that shut him up rather nicely.’

She snorted. ‘Typical.’

She looked around her. It had been raining for two days and the small path leading to the forest was wet and muddy. It was only now that she realised that she was wearing the wrong shoes for this operation. Her high heels were sinking in the mud, which made it difficult to maintain her long decisive steps. She knew Lucas had seen it and she was glad that he did not feel the need to comment on it.

It was better once they were in the woods. If Ros didn’t know any better she would say that it had not been raining here for a few weeks. The ground was solid and dry. There even was something different about the air. If anything, it was purer and cleaner.

‘Do you notice something?’ Lucas asked, frowning.

For a moment she was tempted to say that there was nothing she had noticed, because saying that it “felt different” sounded too sodding vague for her. Ros liked facts, things she could actually check, because that was her job. Feelings were not something she dealt with, but yet she had a feeling now that there was something not quite right with this place.

‘The ground is dry,’ she therefore replied. That was a fact. And it was also a fact that it had been raining only that morning.

‘It’s like we’re in a different place altogether,’ Lucas remarked, saying what she didn’t really want to say. He pulled his mobile from his pocket, checking the screen. ‘No signal.’

She looked at her own phone. She didn’t have a signal either, but then there had not been much signal to begin with. The village was old-fashioned in the worst possible way. That was a surprise so close to London. Mrs Bishop seemed to be the example of the average age in this little town and there seemed to be very few other mobile phones at all. Ros had even half expected to run into Miss Marple. It was that kind of a village.

‘No signal either,’ she reported. Her hand crept towards her gun. Because there had been a little signal in the village itself and this was the exact spot where the comms had stopped working two weeks ago. That was too much coincidence for her and apparently for Lucas as well. His hands were making the same movement.

‘Do you think we should call the cavalry?’ he joked, probably to ease the tension.

‘Yeah, sure, do you have a hunting horn?’ she shot back.

‘What do you think?’ He pulled a small whistle from his other pocket, the kind of whistle they usually used at football matches, that is. She cracked a smile. It did help to make jokes in situations like that.

A few minutes passed, in which they stood, guns in hand, waiting for something they could not put a name to, which vexed Ros. She was a bloody intelligence officer. It was her job to know! They could be standing here like idiots, waiting for nothing at all.

She was about to put her gun away and propose that they head back, because there was obviously nothing to be learned here, when somewhere in the woods someone sneezed, loudly.

‘Merlin!’ a male voice wailed. ‘You scared it away!’

‘I can’t help it!’ the other man defended himself.

‘Yes, you can. That was the fifth time today,’ the first voice stated.

Lucas frowned. ‘Merlin?’ he mouthed at her.

That had Ros frowning as well. What was this madness here? First there had been this guy who had introduced himself as King Arthur Pendragon and now she heard someone, probably a young man, being referred to as Merlin. She was pretty sure there was no terrorist organisation that had its members go by names from the Arthurian legend. Something wasn’t right here. Ros wasn’t opposed to heroics, but something about this made her wish for back-up.

‘What do we do, boss?’ Lucas whispered.

Ros grabbed her gun a bit tighter, pointing it in the direction of the sound. Part of her wanted to turn around and run away, but that was something she had never done before and she didn’t intend to start now. Because there was one other thing besides nice that people never said about Ros Myers. No one had ever accused her of being a coward and that was something she was proud of. So she pulled herself together and shouted: ‘Police! Show yourself!’


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur are introduced to the twenty-first century, although not in the most pleasant way.

 

This whole hunting idea was a bad idea. Merlin had known it from the start. There was always something that went wrong and today was no exception. He had developed a cold over the last few days, making him sneeze at the least opportune moments, like when Arthur was about to shoot a deer. They hadn’t caught anything all day, his bottom was protesting against another day of doing nothing but sitting on a horse and his throat was sore as well. He wanted nothing more than to return to Camelot, where it was warm and where they could get a decent meal. But no, of course Arthur had found another deer trail and here they were, fifty meters away from their prey and he just had to sneeze again, effectively scaring the animal, causing it to run away as fast as it could.

‘ _Merlin_!’ Arthur wailed loudly, the volume no longer a problem now that the deer had already fled. ‘You scared it away!’

He wanted to deny that, but that would be pointless anyway, so he settled for the more truthful ‘I can’t help it!’ Although, if he was really honest, he could have stopped himself without too much effort. But the deer had been looking at him with those wide innocent eyes and he had decided that it didn’t deserve to be killed for the king’s fun. If Arthur’s anger was the price he needed to pay, then so be it. He was used to it, after all.

‘Yes, you can,’ Arthur argued. ‘That was the fifth time today!’ He had actually kept count?

He opened his mouth and then shut it again, failing to come up with an answer that would please his royal prattishness. He wondered if it would be any use to ask if they could return to Camelot now, but he suspected that would only result in him having thrown something at his head again.

‘You’re doing it deliberately, aren’t you?’ Arthur asked in a threatening voice, which usually meant that he ended up in the stocks.

‘No!’ he exclaimed. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the stocks, but he had seen them a little too often of late.

Arthur clearly disagreed, but before he could say something they were distracted by a woman’s voice: ‘Police! Show yourself!’

Arthur’s automatic reaction was to get off his horse and grab his sword, sneaking towards the clearing from where the noise had come, leaving Merlin with no choice but to follow. If there was something dangerous there, it was his job to keep Arthur safe, even if Arthur believed that he didn’t need saving.

The sight that met them when they finally saw the people that had demanded of them to show themselves, was one Merlin had not been expecting. It were the dark-haired men and the green-eyed woman they had encountered in this exact spot almost three weeks ago. Both were pointing their weapons, those strange iron devices he had seen last time as well, at their chests. The man’s faced betrayed that he was very surprised to see them, but the woman’s face showed no emotion at all. Her expression was neutral and focused. If there was anything he could say about it, then maybe it was icy. He had never met someone that cold, with the possible exception of Morgana.

‘You!’ Arthur exclaimed.

‘Drop the sword,’ the woman said slowly. Merlin searched his memory for her name and it came up with something like Ros. He frowned. That wasn’t even a name, right? And if it was, then surely not a woman’s name.

‘I’m sorry?’ Arthur said in his very own indignant way.

‘You heard me,’ she said. ‘Drop the sword or I will have to shoot you.’

She did have some nerve, Merlin had to give her that. If he remembered correctly, he was the only one to have commanded Arthur like this before and that was only before he had learned his identity. This woman Ros knew who she was talking to and yet she still treated him as if he was below her. Merlin wondered who she was.

Arthur obviously thought it wiser not to push his luck. He must remember what those weapons of theirs could do, too. He dropped the sword.

The woman cracked a sarcastic smile. ‘Now step away from it.’ She glanced at the man and he nodded, pointing his weapon away from Arthur, directing it to Merlin instead.

‘Do not move unless I tell you to,’ he said. He had a low voice, one that could sound reassuring as well as threatening. Unfortunately for them, it was the latter today and Merlin made a mental note not to underestimate him. He had not spoken much when they had first met him, except to make a joke to his friend, and Merlin had initially thought he didn’t present much of a danger, despite all his muscles. He really had to learn not to let himself be fooled by first impressions.

‘Now, hang on!’ Arthur said, really angry now. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘You’re going to come with us for a bit,’ the woman announced. ‘Then you can tell us the little story in which you are going to explain to me _exactly_ what the point is in dressing up as knights, go to the extremes to avoid being seen by CCTV and show up at the exact time a major terrorist is trying to make a run for it.’

Merlin had heard strange things in his life, an awful lot of them, but this beat it all. He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. Dressing up as knights, avoid being seen by CCTV? What was CCTV anyway? And what was a terrorist? In short, Merlin was very confused. He couldn’t say he liked the feeling.

Arthur’s eyes also showed confusion as well as fear and anger, with anger having the upper hand. ‘I am the king of Camelot!’ he protested, maybe not the wisest thing to say in a situation like this. For all they knew these people could be in league with Morgana. ‘And I demand to know who you are and who you’re working for.’ Merlin knew that he meant Morgana.

The woman gave him another sarcastic smile. ‘How about the British government? Would that be good enough, “your highness”?’ You didn’t need to be good at reading people to know that she was irritated, very irritated. ‘Now, if I have to repeat myself one more time, I might get really annoyed, so step away from the sword before I lose my temper.’

Arthur wasn’t an idiot, despite what Merlin tended to say about him. His eyes told their attackers that they were going to pay for this, but at the moment there wasn’t much that he, or Merlin for that matter, could do. He was sorely tempted to use his magic and get out of here as fast as he could, but he had seen enough of their weapons to know that there was no way he could outrun them. He’d have to wait for an opportune moment. And while he was waiting for that moment to arrive, he might as well try to figure out who they were and what they wanted with them.

They weren’t your average bandits. Their weapons and their choice of clothing were proof enough of that. In fact, he couldn’t say that he had seen either of those items before in all the Five Kingdoms. No woman with a shred of self-respect would go walking around in that kind of clothing.

He pondered if he could rule them out as Morgana’s accomplices. They didn’t look like they were from around here, so how would Morgana have found them? Besides, did the woman not mention that they were working for the British government, whatever that might be? But Morgana had employed unlikely people before, so he didn’t want to remove that option already, not when he knew so little of what was actually going on here.

Both of them were cuffed, their arms behind their backs. Merlin briefly considered struggling, but the weapon held against his head convinced him that that would be a very bad idea indeed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so powerless or so confused. Merlin, who had done a great deal of spying over the years, had grown used to the fact that he was better informed and aware of what was going on at the moment than the people around him. That he, for once, was just as clueless as Arthur was not a feeling he had ever experienced before or wanted to experience again.

The woman gripped Arthur’s shoulder and, after picking up his sword, began to march him away from the clearing. Her friend did the same with him and Merlin had no choice but to obey.

Merlin kept his eyes wide open, looking for opportunities to get out of here, but he also studied his surroundings very well. And very soon they were in a place he did not recognise at all. He had come to know the forests around Camelot very well in the last few years, but this was not a part of the forests around Camelot.  Even the air felt different here. This was magic at work here. He could feel it in his bones.

‘Check for signal,’ the woman snapped at her friend once they were out of the woods, crossing a meadow towards a town in the distance.

The man checked something. ‘It’s back again,’ he reported. ‘Do you want me to call Harry?’

‘I’ll do it,’ she said, before grudgingly adding: ‘Good job, Leon. You were right.’ She plugged something in her ear and touched one of the buttons on her jacket. ‘Control, this is Alfa One.’

Merlin had to try his hardest and use a small listening spell that fortunately nobody noticed, but then he could hear a male voice that apparently was coming from the woman’s ear: ‘Ros, thank God! Where were you?’

So, he had her name right.

She frowned. ‘Where I’d said we’d be,’ she said.

‘We tried to make contact, but you were off comms again.’ The voice in her ear sounded like he was more worried than angry.

The frown deepened. ‘Shit!’ she hissed. ‘There really is something wrong with that place. Right, I want some back-up. We’ve picked up two terror suspects and I want to bring them in for interrogation.’

‘I can have a van there in ten minutes,’ the voice said.

Merlin had no idea what terror suspects were, but he did know the word interrogation, and so did Arthur. This might be precisely the right moment to try and make a run for it. He risked a quick glance at the king, who gave him a hardly visible nod. Ros was too busy arranging a time and place to meet with some of her other friends to pay much attention and her friend Leon, although he looked absolutely nothing like the Leon he knew, was distracted by her conversation. A better moment was not going to come.

‘Now!’ Arthur mouthed.

Merlin didn’t watch what Arthur was doing. He just shook off the hand that was guiding him more than holding him and broke into a run.

 

***

 

‘If you think of doing that one more time, Rosalind…’ Harry threatened her, which Ros believed to be unfair. After all, it wasn’t her fault that their mobiles had refused to get a signal. But when Harry was in a mood like this, angry, worried and moody, there was no talking reason into him.

‘And what the hell would you have wanted me to do?’ she snapped. ‘Would you have wanted to come here to hold my bloody hand, Harry?’ She knew that she was being unfair as well, but the Ros Myers code dictated that she never admitted such a thing. Harry felt guilty for what he called his inability to save her from Juliet’s supposedly lethal injection, which Ros thought was rather ridiculous. It was her fault he ended up tied to that chair in the first place. ‘Listen, I’ll need to brief the team as soon as we’re back on the Grid and I’ll need two separate interrogation rooms to… _Shit_!’

The two men had taken the advantage of her temporary distraction. Ros saw the blonde one she was holding give an almost invisible nod. It might have passed her by if she was anyone else than who she was. But she was a spy and she noticed everything. But he had escaped her grasp before she could strengthen it.

She ignored Harry’s frustrated ‘What’s happening?’ and turned, only to learn that the dark-haired young man Lucas had been guarding had broken free as well. She cursed her own stupidity in thinking that there would be no need to guard these two very well after it had taken them almost no effort at all to catch them.

‘Get them!’ she shouted at Lucas, setting the example by running after them at full speed herself. The blonde one was quick, but he was also slowed down by his chainmail, which was a stroke of luck. The other man, now, he was fast, really fast. He didn’t look it, but he was. Ros hadn’t exactly thought of him as a threat. In the time it had taken them to get here he had tripped over his own feet at least three times.

There was no tripping now. The man should have become an athlete. Fortunately Ros was a fast runner, too. She watched Lucas tackle “King Arthur” from the corner of her eyes and concentrated on getting his accomplice “Merlin”. What was the point of using names from the sodding Arthurian legend anyway? When she would have time to think again, that was on top of her list.

“Merlin” tripped and fell, so maybe his clumsiness wasn’t an act. And Ros didn’t care. All that she cared about was that in those few precious seconds she caught up to him, literally jumping on his back, pinning him down to the ground.

‘Ow!’ he exclaimed, almost indignantly, as if she would have no right whatsoever to treat him that way.

He struggled to break free and Ros was surprised to notice that there was more to this guy than met the eye. He did have some strength, but Ros was used to dealing with strong suspects and this one still had his hands cuffed behind his back, which didn’t make fighting her any easier. She turned him over, half sitting on his windpipe the way she had done to Samir.

She held her gun against his forehead and he stopped his resistance. ‘Listen to me, “Merlin”,’ she said in a hushed voice that everyone who knew her knew meant that they were in big trouble. ‘Do that again and I can make your life extremely difficult and painful. Cooperate and we might just go easy on you.’

His blue eyes showed some panic, but determination also. In a strange way he reminded Ros of herself. This one didn’t give up, ever. He may not look like a fighter, but he was one.

Nonetheless he gave a nod, or something that came close to it. ‘I understand,’ he managed to say, although he had a little difficulty breathing by now.

‘You’d better,’ Ros said. ‘Or I might get really annoyed.’

‘Ros!’ Harry was yelling in her ear. ‘What is going on there?’

‘Small problem with stray luggage, Control,’ she reported. ‘But we’ve tracked it down and will get it back to base as scheduled.’ She glanced over to where Lucas was busy restraining a still very uncooperative wannabe king, who was yelling his displeasure on top of his lungs, threatening the pair of them with dire consequences if they didn’t let him go immediately.

Ros scowled. ‘You might want to gag him, Leon,’ she said sarcastically. ‘Or else our dear Mrs Bishop might hear him yelling over the sound of her noisy neighbour.’ It wasn’t a joke completely. Attracting attention was the worst sin an intelligence officer could commit and Ros had to admit that this operation wasn’t going as smoothly as she would have liked.

He gave her his charismatic smile. ‘Maybe I should charm him into shutting up.’

She felt the corners of her mouth curling up. ‘Yeah, sure. I thought that only worked on every female in existence?’ _What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, Rosalind?_ she asked herself a second later. Was she allowing him to charm her as well? Apart from the fact that she wasn’t in the habit of ever letting that happen to her, this was most definitely not the time and place for that. They were in the middle of an operation, and she was sitting on one of their suspects necks while Lucas was yanking the other one to his feet.

Lucas chuckled. ‘Well, he screams like a girl,’ he said, shrugging.

‘Yeah, sure.’ She followed his example, forcing her own suspect to get up as well, giving him the standard Ros Myers death glare to tell him that he had better not try anything stupid again, although the real stupidity here was hers, letting him escape in the first place.

Lucas looked at her. ‘Harry okay?’ he asked.

‘Just furious,’ she replied. ‘But we’ll deal with that once we get these two morons back to London.’ She used the plural form almost automatically and only second later she found herself wondering why she had done that. She was the Section Chief here and therefore it should be her responsibility to deal with Harry. _We_ was something she might have said if she had been on an operation with Adam, not bloody Lucas North. The strangest part of it was that it felt like the right thing to be saying.

The choice of words wasn’t lost on Lucas. His smile widened into a grin as they marched their captives across the field. ‘It’s a deal, boss.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be up tomorrow. In the meantime your thoughts on the story would be appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin is thinking of the best way to escape while Section D tries to find out who they are dealing with.

**Chapter 5**

 

By the time he was left alone in a small room without windows, Merlin was as close to a full- out panic attack as he had ever been. He had no idea what was happening to them, or why. He didn’t rule out Morgana’s involvement in all this, but it seemed unlikely. No one had known that they were going on a hunt. Even Agravaine, who knew that Arthur would be out of town for the day, could not possibly have found the time to go and inform Morgana of their movements. Arthur’s full schedule would have taken care of that.

No, Morgana was probably out of the question, but she wasn’t the only enemy Arthur had. His father had made quite a lot of them and most of those weren’t above passing on the father’s crimes to his son. Even Merlin didn’t know of every enemy Arthur had and he doubted that he even wanted to know.

But something was not right about this. There was magic at work here, of that he was sure. Because there was simply no way that they could have found this strange land on the other side of the forest without it. He had been there before and this didn’t look like it at all. Even the air was different here.

Not for the first time the thought crossed his mind that they were now trapped in a different world altogether. There were just so many things here that felt completely alien to him: the things they used to move around at great speed, the things they used to talk to other people over great distances… Merlin had not seen much from the inside of the _van_ , he believed it was called, but it was enough to convince him that he wasn’t in Camelot anymore.

And now he was locked up in this room. He didn’t think it could be called a dungeon, even if this was below ground level. They had left his hands unbound, but he couldn’t get out anyway, so it didn’t matter. The only way out was through a heavy door, made of some kind of metal Merlin could not put a name to, and the only way to open that door was to push the right code on a small “piece of technology” (that was what his captors had called it anyway when they told him he wouldn’t stand a chance of escaping this place) that made bleeping noises when you pushed in the numbers on it, and an awfully loud noise when you got the code wrong. He knew this because he had given it a few tries when he worked out the meaning of the device. It had left him with a headache and no results, so in the end he’d given up.

He turned his attention to the only furniture in the room: a table and two chairs, one on each side of the table. All three objects were made of material that he didn’t know either.

If anything, this room made him feel claustrophobic, something he’d never had a problem with before. But then, he had never before found himself in such a situation. He’d been stabbed, poisoned, locked up and beaten previously, but not one of those unpleasant experiences came even close to this one. Because most of the time he had some notion of what was going on and why. Now, he didn’t know a thing. All he knew was that he was locked up in a strange place, separated from the king he was meant to protect, arrested by people of the “British government” for being a “terror suspect”. And none of it made any sense to him.

Something else had struck him as strange as well, beside all the obvious things. The woman called Ros had been “on the phone” a lot during the trip to this place. She had spoken in a hushed voice, but since Merlin’s listening spell was still working, he had been able to hear her well. She told whoever was listening that she had picked up two men claiming to go by “King Arthur Pendragon and bloody Merlin”. Apart from not knowing why he was supposed to be bloody, he wasn’t wounded after all, he had wondered about the way she had spoken their names. It was almost as if she _knew_ them, knew them and thought them utterly ridiculous.

There were just too many loose ends here and he couldn’t make sense of anything anymore, which was frightening in and out of itself. There was only one thing that was clear to him: he needed to get out. They were planning on interrogating him. Merlin had heard enough to know that interrogation was just another word for torture most of the time. Uther didn’t do it that much; he preferred to have people beheaded without getting a confession first, but king Cenred had been notorious for it, as were some other kings Merlin had heard about. And he could not let that happen to Arthur.

He had been reluctant in using magic before now. The spell he had used to eavesdrop on Ros and a man apparently called Harry had been his only magical act that day. But there was no one here to see him and he had no other options. He needed to get out, find Arthur, free Arthur and find a way back to Camelot. Magic seemed like the only available option he had now.

He held out his hand towards the door and took a deep breath. ‘ _Tospringe_!’

 

***

 

They were greeted by a lot of confused faces as they stepped through the pods, but Ros ignored all of them. She handed her mobile phone to Malcolm. ‘I got photos of them on there. I want their names, addresses, associates, everything you can find. I want to know who they are, what the bloody hell they’re up to and why they’re not on our radar and I want it yesterday,’ she snapped. ‘Run them through face recognition and every database you can think of. Connie, I want you to find everything you can about organisations that have their members go by names of the Arthurian legends.’

‘But…’ the senior analyst started to protest.

Ros cut her off. ‘Now, Connie!’ Maybe that would teach her who was boss here. She still hadn’t forgiven Connie for undermining her authority by running off to Harry. ‘The rest of you in the meeting room in fifteen minutes.’

The rest of the team knew better than to object when she was in such a foul mood. Harry frowned at the tone in her voice, but then headed off towards his office. Jo returned to her desk, as did Connie, albeit grudgingly, and Malcolm was already behind his computers again, loading the photos of “Arthur” and “Merlin” into the system to search for matches.

Ros entered the meeting room alone. She didn’t know where Lucas had gone off to and at the moment she didn’t care. All she cared about was knowing what the hell was going on here. She took a seat and closed her eyes, going over that afternoon’s events in her head, trying to make sense of it all. At first sight this was just a pair of mentally deranged men with an Arthurian obsession playing in the woods, but it didn’t explain the comms going dead or their absence on the CCTV cameras. And she didn’t believe it was a coincidence either that they had now run into them twice, in exactly the same place.

All these loose ends were giving her a massive headache. Lucas had been right about there being something very suspicious about the whole matter and she was glad she had listened to him, although she would never admit that when called on it. But she couldn’t put her finger on it either.

She was used to dealing with terrorists that she could actually understand. People did things for a reason, because they wanted to achieve something. What these men did seemed not only illogical, but even contradictory. Why would they deactivate the comms, if they were in league with Al-Qaeda (which seemed the closest to logical that they could get), only to shoot one of Al-Qaeda’s most important men in the leg, thus delivering him into their hands almost gift-wrapped?

The door slid open and Lucas came in. ‘All right, boss?’ he asked, placing a cup of coffee in front of her.

‘Can you read my mind?’ she questioned, beckoning to the cup.

He grinned. ‘Nah, just know your love of caffeine.’ He sat himself down, a stack of paper and a mug of his own in front of him.

‘What’s that?’ she asked.

‘The CCTV images,’ he replied. He shoved some of the paper her way. ‘And the transcripts of the day we caught Samir and the conversation this afternoon.’

She looked at it. ‘We weren’t wired when we caught Samir,’ she stated, frowning. ‘And the comms stopped working.’

‘Photographic memory,’ he said.

It suddenly became clear to her why Harry had taken such troubles to get him back. Lucas really was good at his job: devoted, clever, charming and quick. She tried not to get jealous of those skills, but it was difficult. She knew she was good at her job, too, otherwise she would never have made it to the post of Section Chief. But if Lucas had never gone to Russia, she knew she would never have made it here, not with her past. That stung.

She sipped of her coffee. ‘Well, maybe you can charm our two guests into talking,’ she remarked.

‘Doubt it,’ Lucas said. ‘The king is too busy shouting to be charmed.’ He sipped his own coffee. ‘There is something strange about these two.’

‘Not your average type of terrorists, are they?’

He snorted. ‘Not that I really know what today’s average type of terrorist actually is,’ he said sourly, referring to his stay in the Russian prison. ‘But no, they aren’t.’

Lucas may be a brilliant spook, Ros reflected, but he had a lot of trauma to dig through. Russia still had a huge impact on his life and the way he thought about himself, which compromised his skills in the field. She wondered what he had been like before his imprisonment. Probably Mr Bloody Perfect, if Malcolm’s descriptions were anything to go by.

‘Well, they’re up to something, and that’s bloody well enough for me,’ Ros muttered. And if they were hiding any secrets, which she was sure they were, then she would squeeze them out of them. The dark-haired young man didn’t strike her like one who could hide a secret for long. The blonde one was another matter entirely, but once his friend would start spilling the beans, they would probably have no further need for him, no matter how kingly he prided himself to be.

She closed her eyes and drank her coffee, grateful for the hot liquid, the number one necessity in every spook’s survival kit. There was no way you could do the job they did without caffeine.

‘Don’t you want to check the transcripts?’ Lucas asked. ‘See if I’ve missed anything?’

She glanced at them, but they appeared to be awfully accurate. ‘They’re fine,’ she said. ‘You got the most important stuff.’

He gave her a grin. ‘I aim to please, boss.’

Ros glared at him. If he was trying to charm his way into her good graces by calling her boss five times a day, he was mistaken. _If_ he was going to get into her good books, he had to prove himself, a lot. Ros was a perfectionist and she couldn’t work with someone who was less than that. Maybe that was why Adam and she had gotten along so well.

Although, if she was really honest, Adam had never been as ambitious as she and he had messed up more than once, risking entire operations with his reckless behaviour. That was a risk she would never have when working with Lucas. That was for sure.

‘Yeah, sure,’ she said, the standard reply for when she didn’t believe someone. If anything, she was unable to take anything at face value. She had been in the Service far too long for that. There was always another meaning to what people said. The last time she had taken someone at his word would have been when her father told her that thunderstorms could not hurt her and that must have been round the age of six or seven.

Lucas was about to give some kind of witty reply, but she was saved from it by the arrival of the rest of the team. Harry’s face predicted a lot of trouble for both of them if they didn’t tell him what they were doing soon. Connie’s face was equally threatening, but not for the same reason. Jo’s face was curious. She glanced at both of them, but sat down without a word. Malcolm wasn’t with them. Ros suspected he was still running face recognition. The other person absent was Ben Kaplan, but since he was undercover with the Al-Qaeda cell, that was no surprise.

Lucas did most of the report, explaining how he had come to think there was more to the knights than a mere dress-up party, after which he had gone to share his thoughts with Ros, who had agreed with him and ordered that they have a look around in the village. The way he told it he made it sound like Ros was to thank for the success of the operation, which was not entirely true, she knew, but she didn’t speak up.

‘So, what we have here are suspicious individuals who dress up as king Arthur and Merlin,’ Harry concluded at the end of Lucas’s speech. You didn’t have to know him well to hear that he was not amused with the way things were going.

Lucas, who had known Harry for years, caught that tone almost immediately. ‘I thought there was something suspicious about the fact that the comms went dead when we met them. And it happened again today,’ he pointed out. Taken into account how much Lucas craved Harry’s approval, he remained very calm and almost impersonal, simply stating the facts.

Harry nodded. ‘Ros?’

‘I agree with Lucas,’ she said. ‘The comms going dead at the same time that we encountered those bloody knights, that is too much coincidence for my taste and if they are a threat to national security, we’ve probably waited too long already.’

She told herself she only told Harry what she already thought herself. She was not defending Lucas’s theory because she liked him or because she didn’t want to let him down in front of Harry. So, yes, there were still some doubts in her mind about all of this, but there was proof enough that something wasn’t right here. Whether it posed a threat to national security or not, that remained to be seen. But if it was, she would get to the bottom of it, she promised herself.

‘Right,’ Harry said, slipping into full army commander mode. ‘We find out who they are and what they want, we deal with it. We do it fast and we do it discreetly. Meanwhile I want you to stay on the group Ben has infiltrated. If they’re about to do something, they get our full attention. Are we clear?’

Ros nodded. ‘Clear, Harry.’ There was no point in objecting when he was in such a foul mood, even if she had wanted to, which she didn’t.

‘So, any thoughts as to who they are?’ Harry asked, the question directed at Connie.

‘My guess is that the Russians are involved,’ the senior analyst said.

Ros could almost hear Harry’s teeth grinding at the other end of the room and she herself could feel the corners of her mouth curling up. It would be considered a miracle when Connie would _not_ see Russian involvement. Even if something had written Al-Qaeda all over it, she would still suggest that Russia had something to do with it, until proven otherwise. It must be something that found its origins in the Cold War, Ros supposed, but lately Connie had been right a lot. Russia was up to something, of that she was sure, but she doubted that the Russians had anything to do with this madness.

‘Your guess is always that the bloody Russians are involved, Connie,’ Ros scowled. ‘Any other, more founded, ideas?’ She took over from Harry now, as usual. Harry would set them a general direction which he wanted them to take. After that it was up to the Section Chief to decide how she wanted it done.

If looks could kill, she would be dead on the floor by now. ‘I only had the quarter of an hour to search for something, Rosalind,’ she said indignantly, slipping in her full strict teacher mode. Ros half expected to receive a detention when she spoke like that.

‘Right, then keep looking until you do find something. I want to know why they have been under our radar until now and how they knew where we were.’

Connie nodded, but remained seated.

‘Now, Connie,’ she snapped. ‘Or are you going to keep me waiting until bloody Christmas?’

The senior analyst got up and left the meeting room with as much dignity as she could muster at the same time that Malcolm walked into the room. ‘They are not in the system,’ he announced. ‘I monopolised the system and put their faces through every watch list and database that we have and there are no matches.’

Ros didn’t like the sound of that. If she needed any more proof that there was something seriously wrong with this, then she had just gotten it. ‘Get into contact with Six,’ she ordered, a little more harsh than she had intended because of the nerves. ‘See what they have on them. Don’t tell them what you need it for, just get the bloody names from them.’ That would keep him busy for a while. They didn’t exactly like her anymore in Six after her father’s failed coup, which meant that they didn’t like Section D anymore, since she was the Section Chief. That would make it harder for Malcolm to get them to cooperate. ‘Keep searching, Malcolm,’ she added, a bit more friendly now.

The elderly man smiled and left. Ros knew that he liked a challenge, especially when it came to computers that refused to give him what he wanted. If she had been in his shoes, she would be pissed off by this. As it was, she had probably made his day.

‘Jo, I want you to dispatch a team to that clearing where we caught Samir,’ she went on. ‘Tell them to search the place with a toothbrush if necessary, but I want whatever blocked our signal found and analysed as soon as possible. Then get down to our good friends of the CIA and charm them into cooperating. Show them the pictures and try to get an identification for them.’

Jo nodded. ‘And if they don’t want to cooperate?’ After all, that would be the expected behaviour. The Americans appeared to be thinking that all the world needed to dance to their tune and that they were the only ones who mattered, which meant that they regularly demanded help of their “greatest allies”, but almost always refused to give it in return, unless there was something in it for them. And now Ros turned out to be not as dead as they had assumed, they would be even less eager to help them out. Ros’s involvement with Yalta’s anti-America conspiracy had made sure of that.

‘Be nice, blink those nice big blue eyes of yours,’ Ros said in mock desperation. Honestly, couldn’t she think of something herself? ‘Frighten them, threaten them if you have to. Tell them that there might be lethal consequences if they don’t cooperate, which we will not hesitate to tell to the public.’

Her younger colleague frowned. ‘We don’t know yet if there will be lethal consequences.’

Ros was tempted to roll her eyes. ‘What the CIA doesn’t know, won’t hurt them,’ she said briskly. ‘Just get access to their database, find out what they know and for heaven’s sake, do not let them know what we’re onto. The last thing I want is our cousins crawling all over our investigation.’

She may not be in Yalta anymore, but that didn’t mean that she suddenly liked the United States and its security services. Yalta had gone about it in the wrong way, but they had had a very good point and Ros still believed in that, which meant that she didn’t mind at all lying to the CIA if she had to. She rather avoided them altogether, but sometimes needs must. And if she had to choose between allowing a threat to national security to continue to exist and liaising with the CIA, then the latter was the lesser of two evils. That didn’t mean that they had to play nice, however.

Ros toyed with the idea to see if she could get the Russians involved, but then decided against it. True, Lucas could probably persuade Elizabeta to look around, but she doubted if there would be much result and with strong dislike on both sides after Russia’s role in Adam’s death and Section D’s thwarting of the Russian operation in London, she highly doubted if the Russians were that strongly opposed to a terrorist attack on British soil. The way things were now, the FSB was more likely to help the terrorists than help them.

‘And what are we going to do, boss?’ Lucas asked.

Ros supposed she should be bothered by his automatic assumption that they would work together again, but she couldn’t bring herself to be cross with him. As it was, he was a good colleague, someone she actually liked working with, because he wasn’t headstrong, like Connie, and didn’t need her to spell things out for him, like Ben and Jo.

‘We are going to interrogate “Merlin”,’ she announced. ‘And we’re going to get him to talk.’

She pretended not to see the quick expression of fear on his face. The word interrogation was a synonym for torture to him, even though he probably knew full well that Ros didn’t mean to go that far, yet. If she was forced to be a little less nice, she would not do so in his presence. He would not be able to handle that, thanks to the fabled hospitality of the FSB.

‘Right,’ he said. ‘I’ll get it arranged.’ He got up and left, with Jo following in his wake, leaving only Harry and Ros in the meeting room.

‘Harry, do you think the Home Secretary should be informed of this?’ Ros wondered.

Harry Pearce shook his head. ‘Leave him be for the moment,’ he said. ‘He’s got enough on his plate already, what with me refusing to lower the threat level.’

Ros snorted. ‘If it was up to him he would not acknowledge the true threat level if Al-Qaeda detonated a bloody bomb in Whitehall itself,’ she scowled. She didn’t particularly dislike Nicholas Blake, but she didn’t like him either. He was a politician after all, with the politician’s disease of wanting to keep the voter happy, even if that meant refusing to acknowledge the danger of a terrorist attack.

‘You and I have a meeting with him tomorrow morning,’ Harry told her. ‘If we have found anything by then, we will tell him. Not before.’

Ros was briefly distracted by the realisation that this would be the first time she was going to accompany Harry on one of his many meetings with the Home Secretary since she had become Section Chief, but she quickly moved on to more pressing matters. ‘Lucas and I also have to go meet Adam’s old asset from the Pakistani intelligence tomorrow morning,’ she said. ‘He claims to have important information about the terrorist group Ben has infiltrated. I think they’ll go live within the next week.’

‘Then stay on top of this, Rosalind,’ Harry said. He stood up and laid a hand on her shoulder. ‘I know you can.’

She knew that too, but she wanted to prove that she could handle this. _You are_ my _outstanding officer_ , Harry had told her when she thought she was about to die, claiming her as one of his team, despite everything that she had done. Ever since then she had wanted to prove that, prove that she was worthy of his trust, even after her betrayal.

‘I will,’ she said, nodding, getting up herself.

The door slid open again, letting in Lucas. ‘Ros? I think you had better come and take a look at this.’ The expression on his face could only be described as alarmed.

Ros had learned to ask no questions in this kind of situations, so she quickly followed him back to the Grid, to where Malcolm was busy to get the computers to give him something on their suspects.

‘Look at this,’ Lucas pointed.

Ros frowned as she realised which screen he was pointing at. It was the screen showing the interview room they had “Merlin” put in. Leaning closer, she tried to see what so clearly had alarmed him. It took her a few seconds to assess the situation, but then her jaw dropped. ‘What the bloody hell is _that_ supposed to mean?’


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin gets a very unpleasant realisation and Ros hears something she doesn't want to believe.

**Chapter 6**

 

The door wouldn’t give in and the panic was slowly building up in him again, making it difficult to breathe, difficult to focus. Whatever this door was made of, it was stronger than anything he had ever encountered before. The best result he had gotten up till now was the dent in the middle, but that was hardly going to get him out.

 _Focus, Merlin!_ he ordered himself. He had been in this kind of situation before. Back then it had taken him all night and a few hours of the morning to blow away the blockade the troll had set up for him, but he had made it in the end. Maybe this was like that time. Maybe he just needed to keep trying until that door finally yielded.

He lost all track of time. That was hard to determine in here anyway, with no windows available to him. He guessed he had been here no longer than a few hours, half a day at most, which meant that it would be sometime during the evening now. In Camelot they would start getting worried for them now, he guessed. Agravaine might send out some guards to search for them, he thought hopefully, but that was a fool’s hope really. If he knew Agravaine at all he would tell the council that things had taken longer than they had anticipated, forcing Arthur to stay in the village for the night. If there were going to be any search parties, it wouldn’t be until morning.

He held out his hand again and took a deep breath. There was nothing else to be done but keep trying. He doubted there would be anyone here to check on him before morning, giving him more than enough time to come up with a plan.

Just as he was about to speak the spell, the door suddenly opened, letting in Ros and Leon. The latter was carrying a stack of paper that made the pile on Arthur’s desk look like nothing in comparison. Merlin quickly dropped his hand, backing away a few paces.

‘Merlin,’ Ros acknowledged in a tone that was supposed to be friendly. Merlin knew that tone all too well. Not too long ago Morgana had spoken to him like that, shortly before she tried to enchant him into assassinating Arthur. ‘Sit down.’ The following ‘please’ came just a second too late, letting him know that this was not a friendly request, but just an order in disguise.

He eyed them warily as he sat down. Resisting would gain him nothing at the moment, but he wasn’t going to let his guard down either. As far as he knew, he was as trapped as that man they had been chasing a month ago. Merlin briefly wondered what had become of him, but he didn’t allow himself to dwell on that thought. He didn’t think he really wanted to know anyway.

Ros sat herself down opposite him, while Leon remained standing, leaning casually against the door. Neither of their faces betrayed anything. Only Leon’s eyes revealed a flicker of unease.

‘I believe we haven’t been introduced properly,’ Ros said with a very insincere smile. Her eyes were cold and suspecting, reminding him all too much of Morgana’s eyes, which wasn’t helping at all. ‘I’m Rebecca Moore, and this is my colleague Leon Nolan.’

‘You’re lying,’ Merlin blurted out. ‘Your name’s Ros.’

Ros didn’t even blink and even the smile remained firmly in place. ‘You didn’t think we used our real names around suspects, did you?’ she asked. ‘As for here, well, you’re not going anywhere, so we might as well drop the pretence, don’t you think?’

He frowned. Rebecca was not the sort of name he thought fitting for this snappy cold woman. On second thought, Ros was probably just right for her. Rebecca was the kind of name he thought a nice girl might have.

‘So, moving on from the boring subject of names, we thought you might be able to tell us what exactly happened in the woods today,’ Leon said. His smile appeared to a bit more sincere than Ros’s, correction, Rebecca’s, but not much.

‘We were hunting,’ Merlin replied curtly. This was not a dangerous subject, but he would be watching his tongue carefully. ‘Arthur was about to shoot a deer, but then I had to sneeze and I scared it away.’

‘Wrong answer, I’m afraid,’ Rebecca said, smiling still. It was a threatening kind of smile, one that made him want to run for cover as fast as he could, except that there wasn’t any cover here to run for. ‘Let’s pose this question differently. _Why_ were you in the forest today?’

‘We were hunting,’ he repeated. ‘Arthur was bored. He had a lot of duties, but he didn’t feel like doing them, so he tricked Agravaine into standing in for him so that he could do as he wanted.’ The words came out quicker now as the panic was once again fighting to take over completely. They obviously didn’t believe him and he didn’t understand why. It was perfectly natural for Arthur to go out hunting. Why did they even want to know what they were doing there anyway?

At least he was now fairly certain that they were not working for Morgana. She wouldn’t be interested in why they were there. All that mattered to her was that they were there so that she could take them. These people were concerned with completely different things. If anything, the way they talked to him made him feel like a criminal who had committed a crime of some kind. Could it be that they had them messed up with other people?

‘You’re not working for Morgana, are you?’ he blurted out before he could stop himself. Inside his head he could almost hear Gaius scolding him for giving away so much.

Rebecca’s mask of indifference finally slipped, making way for barely controlled irritation. ‘For heaven’s sake, how long do we have to endure this endless chatter about the sodding Arthurian legend?’ she snapped, anger sparking in her eyes. ‘Who else are you going to mention? Did you have a bloody sir Lancelot hidden away as well?’

A shiver went down his spine. How did they know about Lancelot? ‘Lancelot is dead,’ he replied stiffly, trying to swallow away the lump in his throat. The memory of Lancelot stepping through that veil, smiling encouragingly at him as he did so, still caused him to feel the grief over his death as freshly as if had happened only yesterday.

If Rebecca saw anything of his inner turmoil, she didn’t comment on it. ‘Too right, he bloody well is,’ she sneered. ‘And so he has been for the last ten centuries or so.’

 _And so he has been for the last ten centuries or so_. Her words echoed in his head, the realisation of what was going on finally dawning on him. If Lancelot had been dead for so long, then the only reasonable explanation, the only one that would make even the slightest bit of sense, was that they had somehow ended up in the future. It would explain why Rebecca had such trouble believing him. She had obviously heard about them, but the way she had spoken their names had made it sound like she was not going to believe that those were their real names. What if the reason for that behaviour was that she knew them from, what had she called it again, the Arthurian legend? No wonder she didn’t believe him, not if he was supposed to have been dead for ages.

‘What’s the year?’ he stammered, not exactly sure that he wanted to know.

Rebecca snorted. ‘Bit confused, are you? Does the year of 2008 ring any bells?’ She didn’t wait for an answer, but just went on. ‘But I’m the one asking the questions here. Leon.’

Her colleague walked over to where they were sitting, placing some kind of device on the table, which Rebecca opened. He was slightly reassured by the fact that it didn’t look like an object of torture, but if he had truly landed himself in the year 2008, that wasn’t saying anything. His short experience in this place, or was he supposed to say time, had already taught him that there was very little like it was in his own time.

‘So, you obviously don’t want to tell us what you were doing in the woods today,’ Leon said. ‘But maybe you want to offer us some kind of explanation for this.’ After those words he turned the device.

And Merlin’s heart nearly stopped. He had no idea what this thing was, whether it was magical or not, but he did know that he had not been as alone as he’d thought he was. The thing showed him, doing magic. He could hear his own voice, although sounding like he was speaking from inside Arthur’s armour, yelling spells at the door that refused to yield to him.

He looked up at them, blood drained from his face. His secret was out now. He could feel himself go all cold inside. Merlin had no idea what the view on magic was in this time and place, but Rebecca’s expression was still less than amused. Something told him she would much rather kill him and be done with him than have this conversation.

Leon shut the device, picking it up again. ‘So, Merlin,’ he said. It didn’t escape Merlin’s notice that the name was spoken with some mocking. ‘What was that all about?’ He glanced at the dent in the door. ‘You were doing something.’

Yes, he was, but if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he wasn’t going to tell them. So he remained silent.

Rebecca smiled again. ‘Of course we can always go and ask your friend next door,’ she said matter-of-factly.

‘Arthur can’t know!’ he burst out. The words had left his mouth before he had given them permission to do so, the panic almost drowning him.

The triumphant look in Rebecca’s eyes told him she had him exactly where she wanted him and he wanted to bang his head against a wall for not realising sooner that she had been setting a trap for him. Now he had given her something to use against him and use it she would.

‘Then you better start talking,’ she advised him in that too-friendly voice. ‘Or I’m going to pay Arthur a visit, see what he thinks about this charming display of…?’ She looked at him expectantly.

‘Magic,’ Merlin whispered. ‘I have magic.’ It was the first time that he ever admitted it like that and it felt all wrong. They weren’t supposed to find out. No one was supposed to find out. What if Arthur heard about this? Would he accuse him of lying to him for years, exile him, maybe even kill him?

He may have been expecting loathing, anger or hatred even. What he didn’t expect was for Rebecca to snort, almost dismissively. ‘That’s ridiculous,’ she said. ‘I know you have probably talked yourself into believing that you are the actual Merlin, but don’t you think it’s a bit far-fetched to think that you are capable of doing magic as well? Pathetic,’ she added under her breath.

Merlin risked a quick glance at Leon. He had gone very still and thoughtful after Merlin’s confession. Merlin could see something in his eyes; a realisation dawning, maybe even comprehension. But it was only for a second and then his mask was on again.

‘I think we’re done here,’ he said. ‘This one’s not going anywhere tonight.’

Rebecca got up. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I have better things to do than wasting my time on this bloody moron.’ She marched more than she walked to the door, hitting the numbers on the device next to the door. Merlin tried to see the code, but she was standing right in front of it, so he couldn’t see a thing.

He briefly considered trying to run out after them, or trying to keep the door open using magic, but before he could decide on either option, the door had already slammed shut. He sank back in his chair, trying to think of something, _anything_ he could do.

It struck him then: a listening spell. Maybe there were guards outside. There had to be, because this was a prison of some kind. And guards talked, because they had nothing else to do until their shift was over. If anything could be learned about this place and its weaknesses, then they were his best chance.

At first he thought the spell had not worked. There was complete silence in the corridor outside his cell. But then he could hear Rebecca’s voice as loud and clear as if she were standing right next to him: ‘That is ridiculous!’

 

***

 

Lucas was on to something, Ros could tell that much. There had been a moment during the interrogation that he had become very thoughtful. She could not pinpoint when it had begun; she had been too focused on “Merlin” to pay much attention to her colleague.

Well, she was glad that Lucas seemed to have an idea, because she had none. “Merlin” had gone on and on about Arthur, who wasn’t supposed to know that he could do “magic”, Morgana, who they were not working for, and Lancelot, who was dead. That was about the only sane thing she had heard him say. So now she was frustrated, irritated and in a very bad mood. The investigation seemed to be going nowhere before they had even properly started.

‘What?’ she demanded as soon as the door had closed behind them.

Lucas seemed uneasy. He started pacing the corridor, unable to stand still. ‘I think he could be telling the truth,’ he said.

She snorted. ‘The truth as in that is the truth in his deranged mind, yes,’ she said sarcastically.

Lucas shook his head. ‘No, the truth as in he is as sane as you and I and he is telling us exactly what happened.’

Her brain failed to grasp the meaning of those words right away. Surely he could not be saying what she thought he was saying. But Lucas didn’t look like he was joking now. If he was, there would be some kind of twinkle in his eyes and there wasn’t.

‘That is ridiculous!’ she exclaimed.

He grimaced. ‘Is it? Did you see his face when you told him what the year was?’

As a matter of fact, she had. For a moment she had feared he would pass out there and then. Yes, that was strange, but then, they had him locked up in one of their interrogation rooms, asking him questions he clearly didn’t want to answer. He felt trapped and that could be a far more logical reason to feel uncomfortable.

‘So, you’re telling me that we have the actual king Arthur and bloody Merlin locked up in our interrogation rooms?’ she asked sceptically.

He shrugged. ‘Possible,’ he said.

‘This is ridiculous,’ she repeated. The very idea that they would have two legendary figures arrested as terrorists was so far-fetched that it wasn’t even believable. And surely Lucas must know that. Besides, she wasn’t even sure what she was supposed to think about the whole magic thing. Because if this really was Merlin, then he would be a real wizard and Ros wasn’t sure she was ready to believe in something as absurd as that.

 _Get a grip, Myers!_ she berated herself, shaking her head. _Why are you even considering this?_

‘It would make sense,’ he insisted.

She moaned. ‘Lucas, I do not have the bloody time for this and to tell you the truth, neither do you. We wait and see what Six and the CIA can come up with.’

‘And if they do not come up with something?’

She frowned. Why was he so insistent about this? ‘Then you go talk to Elizabeta and see what the FSB can tell us.’

‘I don’t think that will turn up anything,’ he admitted. ‘Listen to me, Ros.’

‘Do you now propose I start believing in magic?’ she snapped. She knew she was taking her frustration over the failed interrogation out on him and she knew it wasn’t fair to him, but right now, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

‘I propose you let me explain what I think without interrupting,’ he shot back, his own voice rising in anger as well.

She leaned against the wall, her most sceptical expression on her face, thus telling him to go ahead. She probably wouldn’t have any rest until he had told her his sodding theory anyway.

‘Do you remember Mrs Bishop saying that she had never seen a knight in the village?’ he began, waiting until she had nodded before he continued. ‘And you said yourself that the ground in the forest was dry, while we know it had been raining only this morning. So it could be that we were in a different place altogether.’

She knew what he was trying to say. ‘So, according to you we went through some magic portal straight into King Arthur’s kingdom?’ she summarised. She tried and failed to keep the disbelieving tone out of her voice, earning her one of Lucas’s rare glares.

‘They looked at us as if we were aliens,’ he went on. She could hear he was hurt by her refusal to take this seriously. Was he craving her approval now as well as Harry’s? When had that happened? ‘Arthur looked at the van as if it was some monster about to attack him.’

‘We were arresting him,’ she reminded him. ‘He was bound not to be pleased. He knew there was no way he could escape once we had him in the van.’ She shrugged. ‘There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this, Lucas.’

She bit back some less than nice comments about why he was probably thinking this. He had admitted himself that he had been doing very little else besides reading whilst in prison. Apparently he had been reading too much, retreating into his fantasy world to block out the much crueller real one. And he was too easy to influence right now. Russia had made him vulnerable and, to a certain extent, that compromised him, even though he was probably the last person to admit it.

He ignored her comment. ‘Did you see Merlin’s face when he told us that Lancelot was dead and then his shocked expression when you told him that Lancelot had been dead for centuries?’ he pressed. ‘Would you look like that if you knew that person had been dead for ages? You know you don’t.’ He didn’t have to mention Adam’s name to let her know that that was who he was talking about. ‘Come on, Ros, you’re trained in recognising lies. Did he look like he was lying to you? Did he look like anything else except a frightened young man?’

She sighed. ‘No.’ She had been paying attention to that above all else and for all she knew he had spoken the truth. The only problem with that was that what he said could not possibly be true, so she had concluded that he was just a better liar than the ones she usually dealt with.

Lucas nodded. ‘Exactly. And I’ve been thinking, but what he was doing when we were watching him on the security camera, there is no way that only shouting could cause such a dent in that door.’

‘So, you _do_ propose that I start believing in magic?’ she said warily.

He shrugged. ‘There don’t seem to be that many other options. Listen, Ros, if I am right, there should be clues to be found in that forest.’ The words came out fast now. ‘If you are right and there is no magic, then if the team investigating there should be able to reach the other end of the woods within ten minutes. Just ask them to check it out, please?’ His voice had become pleading.

Ros frowned. She didn’t like to admit it, which meant that she would probably never say it out loud, but if Lucas’s strange theory was true, that would explain a lot of things that previously made no sense at all. But still, her mind protested against the very idea of Arthur and Merlin coming through a magical portal into twenty-first century England.

She gave him a stern look. ‘All right,’ she said, causing him to unleash his widest smile on her. ‘I’ll ask them, but if you’re wrong, this is the last time we ever speak about this. We don’t tell the rest of the team and we certainly don’t tell Harry. Understood?’

The smile never left his face. He knew as well as she did who had won this round. ‘Fair enough, boss,’ he said. ‘But if I am right?’

She glared at him. ‘Then we’ll treat it as a plausible lead.’


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Section D is having some unwelcome realisations about the guests in the cells.

**Chapter 7**

 

They stepped through the pods ten minutes later. Ros had made the promised phone call. She tried to decide whether or not she wanted to believe Lucas’s theory. Part of her wanted to, mostly because that would render the need to liaise with Six and the CIA unnecessary. But a small voice in the back of her head kept telling her how ridiculous this was.

‘Anything yet, Malcolm?’ she asked.

He shook his head, his face predicting trouble for whoever had refused to give him what he wanted. ‘Six says we should try within office hours.’

She glanced at her watch: a quarter past eight. For security services that was office hours. As far as she was concerned, overtime didn’t start until after ten o’clock in the evening. This was obstructing them deliberately and she knew it.

‘Then hack into their bloody system!’ she barked. ‘You _can_ do that, right?’

Malcolm’s smile lit up his entire face and she suddenly realised where Lucas had learned to do his smile. ‘I shouldn’t be able to,’ he told her.

She smirked. ‘Do it, Malcolm. I’ll square it with Harry.’ Not that she thought he would object much. It was most likely that he would cross the river in person to give that sodding bunch of misfits the full benefits of his rage. ‘We’ve knocked on the front door asking nicely and they slammed it in our face, now break down the bloody thing.’

‘I’m on it, Ros,’ he said. ‘Give me an hour.’

‘Connie, anything?’ she went on.

‘Nothing,’ the elderly woman reported. Ros could tell she was still pissed off, but she couldn’t care. She knew that Connie would give it her best shot anyway, no matter what she thought of Ros.

‘Then keep searching,’ she said. ‘Somewhere there’s got to be something.’ _Unless Lucas is right, of course,_ the voice in the back of her head offered. Part of her might hope for that, no matter how irrational the idea, but another, even bigger part, hoped that he was wrong about this. She wasn’t looking forward to trying to explain this to Harry. Apart from the fact that he was most likely not going to believe them, she could almost hear his rant about wasting officers’ time already. Because, if anything, the sudden appearance of Arthur and Merlin was not a security risk, not as long as they could keep this a secret.

 _What the hell do you think you’re doing, Rosalind?_ she asked herself a second later. _Are you starting to believe Lucas’s insane idea or are you going to keep your head and deal with the more realistic options on this?_ She knew the answer to that, of course. Ros Myers didn’t deal in vague, which meant that she would stay with the last option until Lucas obtained the evidence that would leave her no choice but to go with it.

‘Jo, anything from the CIA?’ she called to the other end of the Grid.

Jo had been on the phone, but she ended the call immediately. ‘They refused point blank to help,’ she reported, an apologetic smile on her face.

Ros could hear what she didn’t say. ‘They refused to help because of me, you mean,’ she snapped. ‘You can say it, Jo. I won’t drop dead on the spot because the CIA has taken a strong dislike towards me.’

She grimaced. They had every reason to hate her the way they did, but that didn’t make it any less painful. She realised all too well that her presence caused some difficulty in liaising with the services she had accidentally, or not so accidentally, caused some harm. It made her wonder why Harry had wanted her back. He must know that her return to this Section would make his life and his operations a lot more difficult. Six still looked upon her with contempt for abandoning the conspiracy they had been more or less involved with and the CIA was understandably livid about the part she had played in trying to disable their satellites whilst working with Yalta. Harry had been able to calm them then, but that was when they still thought she was dead.

Jo’s smile turned even more apologetic, if that was possible. ‘They said that while a certain person was still in charge, they would not willingly cooperate with us, especially when we were not going to tell them what this was about.’

Ros could only just keep her teeth from grinding in frustration. ‘Did you threaten them?’ she asked. If she recalled correctly she had never said anything about the CIA having to be willing. She briefly considered asking Malcolm to hack into their system as well, but dismissed the idea almost immediately. The Americans tended to protect their systems better than any other service she had ever heard of and she doubted she would get away with hacking into two systems on one single night. Even Harry Pearce’s tolerance didn’t stretch that far.

‘I didn’t have the time,’ Jo said. ‘They hung up on me before I could get to that. They haven’t answered their phones since. All the lines have gone dead.’

‘Get to Harry,’ Ros ordered. ‘Tell him what happened and let him deal with it. I’m sure he’s got one or two people there who owe him a favour.’ She snorted. Harry seemed to have done a lot of things for a lot of people in the past, because he always seemed to have a favour left to call in when they needed it most.

Jo nodded and almost ran over to Harry’s office. Ros sat down behind her desk, going over what little they had to see if she could make anything of it. It stubbornly refused to give her anything but small things that only supported Lucas’s theory. That didn’t do much to improve her mood.

‘Here, boss,’ Lucas’s voice said from behind her.

She looked over her shoulder to see him standing behind her with two mugs of coffee. ‘You know that when I said you would be serving tea for the next decade, I didn’t mean it literally, right?’ she said, accepting one of the mugs gratefully.

He grinned. ‘Just being nice. You looked like you could use one anyway. Jo seemed to be under the impression you were going to bite her head off.’

‘Bloody Yanks!’ she growled. ‘They like keeping grudges warm for years.’

Lucas shrugged. ‘Let’s hope Harry can change their minds. It isn’t your fault, Ros.’

‘Isn’t it?’ she muttered darkly, before she realised who she was talking to. ‘Never mind, Lucas. Any news?’

He shook his head. ‘Nothing much. Merlin’s at it again,’ he reported. ‘Malcolm’s sinking his teeth into Six’s security systems and Connie is threatening her computer with dire consequences if it doesn’t give her something very soon.’ Just at that moment they could hear Harry’s very best furious roar coming from his office. Jo must have forgotten to close the door entirely, otherwise the sound would never have come through. ‘And I think Harry’s just been informed about the lack of progress we’ve made with the Americans,’ he added dryly. ‘Anything on your end?’ She knew he meant the team she had sent over to the village.

‘Nothing yet,’ she replied, checking her watch again: nine o’clock. She frowned at it. It was only a ten minutes’ walk to the other end of the forest. How long could it possibly take for them to ring her back? It wasn’t as if it was even possible to get lost there. ‘They should have reported back by now, so if they haven’t within ten minutes, I’m going to call them myself.’ She shot him an apologetic look. ‘I’m sorry, but it doesn’t look like you’re going to get your beauty sleep tonight.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said. ‘I’m used to it. They used to keep me awake for days on end in Russia. I can handle one night.’ There was something infinitely wrong with the casual manner in which he delivered that line, almost as if it was normal to him. She smiled sourly as she realised that it probably was.

She wasn’t going to tell him that she felt sorry for him, so instead she settled for a clipped ‘Good.’

He watched over her shoulder at the CCTV footage he had given her. ‘Any luck with that?’

‘They’ve made no sudden magical appearance on the CCTV cameras, if that’s what you mean,’ she replied dryly.

‘Now that would prove my theory,’ he shot back.

She was about to give him a sarcastic reply, but her phone interrupted. One look at the screen told her that it was the officer she had spoken to an hour ago. ‘About bloody time,’ she said, before taking the call. ‘Myers.’

‘Officer Myers?’ a voice asked. Taken into account that she had just given her name, Ros thought that a rather stupid question.

‘Yes,’ she said impatiently. ‘What news do you have?’

‘I’m sorry it took so long,’ the officer on the other end said, which wasn’t a good answer in Ros’s opinion. ‘We didn’t have a signal in the woods.’

Sometimes Ros wondered if people actually listened when she talked to them. ‘I sent you there to search for something that blocks a mobile signal,’ she pointed out. ‘I would think that would explain the lack of signal, wouldn’t you?’ She caught Lucas trying to disguise his laughter as a coughing fit. It didn’t convince her. ‘Now, what have you found?’

‘It’s very strange, ma’am,’ the officer said. Ros thought his name was King, but she wasn’t sure. But no matter what his name was, he was irritating her to no end, almost just as much as the wannabe king in the interrogation room.

‘Stop beating around the bush and tell me what you found,’ she snapped. ‘Leave the interpretation to the experts.’

‘Charming, Ros,’ Lucas commented.

She glared at him, focusing on King’s report rather than Lucas’s clever commentary.

‘We walked for half an hour from the clearing,’ he reported. ‘And then we came to the end of the forest.’

‘Half an hour?’ Ros echoed, wondering how slow these people walked.

‘Yes, but that’s the strange thing, ma’am. We could see a huge castle and a town around it from the edge of the forest,’ King went on quickly, fearing her sharp tongue.

 _Oh no_. She could already see Lucas’s face looking triumphant. She didn’t think she could accept his theory just now, so she kept her attention strictly focused on operational level. ‘Did you take photographs?’ she demanded.

‘Yes, ma’am,’ King said.

‘Then why am I not yet seeing them on my computer?’ she asked, her voice dangerously low again.

‘I’m on it,’ he said quickly.

‘You’d better,’ she threatened, before ending the call without as much as a greeting, leaning back in her chair as she did so.

‘They found something,’ Lucas concluded.

She grimaced. ‘A castle and a town around it,’ she replied. It didn’t matter how much she disliked this outcome, but this was what had been found and this was what they needed to deal with. ‘They’re sending over the photographs now.’

Just then the pictures were starting to come in. They were taken while it was dark, but they showed some high quality images of a white castle and a medieval looking town around it. Ros didn’t need any comments from Lucas to know that there was no such castle anywhere near that village. And besides, that town might be a bit old-fashioned, but she seriously doubted that it would be _that_ old-fashioned.

Lucas was visibly trying to restrain himself from saying something, which she appreciated. It might be his head that would be bitten off if he was going to say something along the lines of ‘I told you so’.

‘Time for another briefing,’ she decided.

‘Do you want us to tell Harry first?’ he asked. ‘He might throw a fit when we tell him what it is that we’re dealing with.’

She snorted. ‘When we tell him we have King Arthur and Merlin in our interrogation rooms, you mean?’

He grinned. ‘We might want to have back-up for _that_. The cavalry maybe.’

‘Ha bloody ha,’ she said, getting up. Best have this dealt with as soon as possible. She made a mental note to close the door of his office entirely and shut the blinds on the window before she would drop this bomb on him. Well, at least it would save Harry the trouble of dealing with that awful people of the CIA. That should make his day.

‘Do you want me to come with you?’ Lucas asked.

‘I can handle this, Lucas,’ she said, a little harsher than she had meant.

‘I know that, Ros.’ Was she imagining things, or was he worried about her?

Harry’s bad tempers were famous, but she had dealt with them before. Although she had to admit that she had never had to tell him something like this. She wasn’t even sure yet that Lucas was completely right about this. Her common sense was still protesting against the very mention of it, but there were too many coincidences and too much evidence for Lucas’s case to not do something with it, which meant that Harry had to be informed.

‘He’s not going to be happy,’ she pointed out.

‘I’ve had worse.’ That could have been a joke had he not looked so serious.

She didn’t react, mostly because she didn’t know how she should. She just marched towards Harry’s office, with Lucas following in her wake. Jo was still in there and Harry was still shouting about a bunch of children with the intelligence of a bloody donkey. It was a good thing there weren’t any CIA officers around to hear that, Ros thought, trying to keep herself from smiling.

Ros didn’t bother to knock, knowing that was the fastest way to get Harry’s attention, beckoning Lucas to come in with her.

And indeed the head of Section D turned towards them instantly. ‘Knock, people! Do I need to hang a sodding sign on that door?’

‘It might help,’ Ros remarked. ‘Jo, could you please go and help Connie?’ She knew it was a less than subtle way to get her out of here, but apparently today Jo didn’t mind.

‘What about the Americans?’ she asked.

‘Leave them be,’ she ordered. ‘For the moment,’ she added under her breath. Regardless of whether or not they would need them on this operation, they would need them in future and this was not a way to treat one’s “greatest allies”. The Americans needed to be told that, if they continued like this, they might find Britain a very reluctant helper in future.

Jo nodded and left.

‘What did you find?’ Harry demanded, his not-so-good temper made even worse by the Americans’ behaviour.

Lucas and Ros exchanged a glance and then Lucas spoke up. ‘King Arthur,’ he replied, which was a truthful answer, although Harry did not yet understand.

‘What’s his name?’ Harry asked, obviously thinking they had found the name for the man that claimed to be Arthur Pendragon.

Lucas bit his lip.

‘Out with it!’ Harry said. ‘For heaven’s sake, what’s wrong with the two of you?’

Ros mustered her courage and answered. After all, she was the Section Chief and it had been her decision to take Lucas seriously, so if Harry was going to fly off the handle, she would be the one he was angry with.

‘There’s something very strange about this,’ she began, noticing how much she sounded like some cheap soothsayer on a fair. ‘They’re not terrorists anyway.’ She swallowed. ‘We think that they are the real king Arthur and Merlin.’

Harry didn’t shout. He didn’t yell at them about how the Service didn’t deal in sodding fairy tales. In fact, he just sat there, staring at them with a look on his face that begged them to be joking. For the first time since Ros knew him, Harry Pearce was struck completely speechless.

Lucas used that temporary silence to his advantage, explaining quickly why they had come to that particular conclusion, finishing with the fact that the investigating team had found a castle and a medieval town on the other side of the forest in question, for which Ros still couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation of any kind. She may hate it with a passion, but until proven otherwise, Lucas was very likely to be right.

‘You think?’ Harry said in a low voice that usually preceded the shouting. ‘You _think_? We’re the bloody intelligence service. We _know_ , Ros. And now you think that we may have a king in our interrogation room who has been dead for centuries?’

It was a gamble, one Ros didn’t even believe in entirely herself, but, if she was really honest, it was the best thing they had now, no matter how ridiculous. ‘We don’t think, we know,’ she replied in a calm voice that didn’t betray any doubts. ‘His friend, Merlin, he’s currently trying to blast the door of his cell away, using magic. They came here, or rather, we came there, through some kind of magical portal, which caused our mobiles to lose signal. No mobile networks in the Dark Ages, I’m afraid.’ She produced a confident smile.

Harry spluttered, for the moment unable to formulate a full sentence. ‘ _What_?!’ was what came out at long last.

‘I know it sounds bloody unlikely,’ Ros admitted. _It_ is _bloody unlikely_ , she added in her mind. ‘But at the moment is doesn’t look like there are any other possibilities. It is for sure that they are no terrorists, unless terrorists started to use crossbows and swords while I was away, of course.’

‘Rosalind, this is _not_ the time for jokes,’ Harry reminded her.

‘I’m not joking, Harry,’ she said, serious this time. ‘The man claiming to be Merlin, he really is using magic.’ She grimaced. ‘He’s already succeeded in damaging the door, just by bloody shouting at it in a language we can’t understand. Lucas, could you show the footage, please?’

Lucas had been as clever as to bring the laptop in with them. He placed it on Harry’s desk, turning it towards him and then hit the play button. The head of Section D blinked once, twice.

‘I’ve seen much,’ he said in the end. ‘But this beats it all. You are certain, Ros?’

‘One hundred per cent,’ she replied, trying to come across as if she was as sure as she claimed to be. Because really, this was just bloody ridiculous, even if it was true. Time travel was something that happened in stories, not in real life.

Harry went for a second opinion. ‘Lucas?’

‘Certain, Harry.’ His answer had an underlying tone of uncertainty to it, but Ros guessed that had more to do with Lucas’s attitude towards Harry, the fear that Harry would dismiss his ideas, than the theory itself. He really needed to learn not to let himself be led by the need to earn Harry’s approval. He was a senior officer for heaven’s sake, not some sodding newbie.

That answer earned them both a stern frown from their boss, as if it was their fault that they had to deal with a legendary king and his faithful sidekick, who, strangely enough, happened to be as young, or maybe even younger than the king. Something wrong there, certainly. It would appear legend was even less accurate than she had already thought it to be.

‘Well, then,’ Harry said. ‘It might be time for another briefing. But if this turns out to be a wild goose chase, you had better be sure your passports are up to date.’


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very unusual deal is made.

Merlin had quite a lot to think about after his interrogators had left. The first feeling he had was one of triumph. He had not been wrong about the woman’s name and somehow he had always known that. And apparently Leon wasn’t the man’s real name either. Well, no big surprise there.

The second feeling was one of relief. The man called Lucas had realised what had happened and, even better, was one hundred per cent convinced that he was right. Ros was more sceptical. She struck Merlin as a very down-to-earth type, not the type to even believe in things like magic. She had said so herself. That had surprised and even worried him. He knew that Arthur was prophesised to bring back magic to the land, but people here didn’t even believe in it anymore. What had happened to cause that?

Lucas didn’t really believe in the existence of magic either, but he at least was trying to in order to understand what was happening. But it wasn’t really up to him. It was all too obvious that the woman Ros was in charge and she had mentioned someone called Harry who, by the sound of it, was above her. That would be the one that needed convincing.

No, if he decided to wait until they had worked out that Arthur and he were not terrorists, whatever those were supposed to be, it could be days later, weeks even. They did not have that much time. Heaven knows how much damage Agravaine could cause in that amount of time. A few days wouldn’t be a problem, but not much longer. And so he had, after some deliberation, resumed his attempts to blast that door off its hinges. The effect was almost non-existent, but Merlin tried to not let that fact discourage him. Sooner or later, with later being the most likely option, he would get them out of here. And no one would come check up on him before morning. He had the time.

Or so he thought. It was only an hour or two, or that was how it seemed at least, later that the door opened again, revealing four men in dark clothing. All of them were armed with the same kind of weapons Lucas and Ros had been carrying.

‘Come with us, please,’ the first man said. He had said _please_ , but who was he fooling? Merlin had heard that tone often enough to know that this was just another order and not a question he could say no to.

But he didn’t want to say no. It was almost impossible to escape from within this cell, but outside was another matter entirely. And this time they didn’t even try to bind his hands. Merlin considered that a good sign.

He left the cell and was pointed in the right direction, the guards so close that he could almost literally feel them breathing down his neck. It gave him the unpleasant feeling of being chased.

They turned a corner and to his surprise Merlin saw Arthur there waiting for him, also flanked by four guards. His expression of fearful irritation made way for one of relief when he spotted his manservant. ‘Merlin, thank God!’

Merlin cracked a smile. ‘Is that your way of saying that you actually care?’ he teased.

Arthur reacted to the banter. ‘What on earth gave you that idea?’

The guards began to march them through the building, but made no attempt to separate them or shut them up. That was a good sign, too, so Merlin used the opportunity to tell Arthur what he had learned from his “conversation” with Ros and Lucas, leaving out the minor detail where they had witnessed him doing magic.

‘2008?’ Arthur echoed loudly when Merlin informed him of the date, explaining that that was why the surroundings looked so strange to them.

Merlin grimaced. ‘Ros said so. Thought I was a complete idiot for asking, too.’

Arthur laughed. ‘She’s not completely unobservant then,’ he stated, before he became serious again. ‘But how could it happen that we’re here?’

Merlin shrugged. ‘Magic, I suppose,’ he said, knowing that this conclusion was unlikely to warm Arthur to the idea of magic in general.

‘Morgana,’ Arthur growled.

‘I don’t think so. They had never heard of her.’ He hesitated a moment, before adding: ‘Except in legend.’

‘Legend?!’ Arthur echoed.

‘We’re in it, too,’ he added wryly. ‘That’s why they don’t believe us, I think. We’re supposed to have died centuries ago.’

Arthur was clearly lost for words, which was probably just as well, because they had come to a series of doors. The guards beckoned that they should go through them and Merlin frowned, because he didn’t see a handle.

‘How…?’ he started to ask, but the answer presented itself. The door opened out of itself, as if by magic.

‘What on earth!’ Arthur exclaimed, backing away.

‘Walk on!’ the guards snapped. Their faces showed no emotions at all. If Merlin had to mention any, he would say that they looked stern.

He did as he was told, although he was hugely uncomfortable with it. Once he had stepped through the door it slid shut behind him and he found himself trapped in a small space. There was a similar door before him, but he had no idea how to make it open. He briefly considered magic, but then it opened out of itself just like its twin. He stepped out of the space between doors as fast as he could.

He was greeted by a constant low buzzing and when he looked around him to see what was causing it, his jaw dropped. The place was filled with desks on which devices similar to the one Lucas had been carrying around were placed. He guessed that was what made the buzzing noise. Once again, he wondered what they were.

‘Move on,’ the guards urged him. Some of them had just emerged from the doors while he was taking in the huge windowless room he now found himself in, too amazed for a minute to wonder what this place was and why he was here.

‘Where are we?’ Arthur asked in a whisper. His bravado had been cut short by the strange things that had happened to him. Merlin was less easy to shock, but then, he had a great deal of experience in dealing with strange things.

‘I have no idea,’ Merlin confessed as they were directed to a corridor, which led to a simple wooden door.

One of the guards passed them and knocked on the door. No one replied, but the guard let himself, and them, in anyway, beckoning them in before him. Merlin was liking this less and less by the second, but he didn’t have much choice in this.

The room was not much bigger than the cell he had been kept in for the last few hours, but it was a lot more crowded. Five people were seated around a table that dominated the room and a sixth was standing, leaning against the wall.

Three of the occupants of the room were women. Ros was one of them, looking at them with an expression of mild interest. Merlin also recognised the woman with the short blonde hair and the blue eyes he had seen when she and her colleagues were chasing Samir. She looked at them with barely concealed curiosity, and smiled when she caught him looking at her. The last woman was older, with short grey hair, eyeing them with interest. She was intelligent, Merlin noticed. She may be older, but she was not stupid.

Lucas was the only man standing in the room. The other two were seated. They were about the same age as the grey-haired woman. Merlin only looked at the man seated at the head of the table. From the way he looked Merlin knew that he was in charge. He wondered if this was the man Ros and Lucas had called Harry.

‘Here they are, sir,’ the guard announced, before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

Merlin had no idea what he was supposed to say, but he didn’t have to worry. Arthur had more than enough to say for the both of them. ‘I demand to know what is going on!’ he said, correction, shouted. If he used that tone in Camelot Merlin knew he could better keep all heavy objects out of his reach, or else they would end up against his head.

‘Be seated, your highness,’ the man he thought was Harry said.

Merlin remained standing while Arthur, although reluctantly, took a chair. It had certain advantages to stand, he had learned over the years. It was easier if the need arose to make a quick escape for one. You could also see the other people better for another.

‘Take a seat, Merlin,’ Lucas said. Merlin noticed he didn’t say his name no longer as if it was too ridiculous to believe. But then, this man had been the first to suggest to these people that they were who they claimed to be.

The atmosphere in the room was awkward. There really was no other word for it. The only one who did not seem affected by it was Ros. Merlin started to wonder if she was affected by anything at all. She seemed too cold to be moved.

Unfortunately the only chair that remained empty was next to her. He didn’t like sitting there at all, but Lucas had made it clear that not doing as he asked was not an option.

‘We apologise for the manner of your arrest,’ Harry said when he sat down. ‘But I’m sure you’ll understand that we could not take any risks with potentially dangerous men.’ He smiled at them, betraying that he had years and years of experience of persuading people to see his point.

Arthur wasn’t an idiot either. Merlin knew he knew just as well what this man was doing, but there was very little that he could do about it. ‘I am sure that you will let us go back to where we came from, then,’ he said.

‘Naturally,’ Harry said. ‘Although I am afraid I will have to ask you to sign the Official Secrets Act first.’

Merlin frowned. ‘The _what_?’

Ros handed him a piece of paper. Merlin looked over the text that made him promise not to mention anything he had heard or seen in this place to other people.

‘What is this?’ he asked warily. Most people who wanted him to keep a secret were up to something bad and if his experiences of this day were anything to go by, these people were no different.

‘Something you need to sign,’ Ros replied. ‘Unless you want to spend the rest of your days in that charming room you just came from.’

If he needed any confirmation for his suspicions, she had just given it to him.

‘Now, hang on!’ Arthur exclaimed. ‘I am the king of Camelot!’

‘There we go again,’ Lucas muttered under his breath.

‘We just ask you to keep our secrets,’ the woman with the short blonde hair said soothingly. ‘As we will keep yours. We do you a favour, you do one to us in return.’

She sounded nice and honest. There didn’t seem to be another meaning to her words. And this was 2008, after all. Maybe this was just the way things were done here. Ros handed him some kind of pencil and he wrote his name on the document.

Arthur was still hesitating. ‘How can I know that your intentions are honourable?’ he demanded.

‘We’re spies,’ Harry said. ‘We protect innocent lives. We need to do that in secret.’

Merlin raised his eyebrows. These people were professional spies? They spied for the country they lived in to protect its people? That was what Harry had been saying, right?

An idea popped up in his mind and he had translated it into words before he could think it through. ‘Arthur signs this if you make us a promise in return,’ he said.

Ros’s face darkened. She looked as if she desperately wanted to slap his face, but a warning glance from Harry stopped her. ‘What promise would you want?’ he asked interestedly.

Ros’s expression made him almost regret speaking up in the first place, but there was no way out of this now. So he mustered his courage and answered: ‘We have a traitor in Camelot. If Arthur signs that paper, you’ll help us to find him.’

‘Merlin!’ Arthur exclaimed indignantly. He could tell the king was none too pleased with Merlin making the decisions, but he was almost too easy to ignore.

‘You abducted us,’ Merlin pointed out. ‘You owe us for that.’ And seeing that Harry wasn’t too pleased with the idea, he added: ‘And I could help you. I’ve done quite a bit of spying over the years.’ Heaven knew how true that was. He had lost count of how many times he had sneaked through corridors, searched suspicious people’s rooms and eavesdropped on conversations not meant for his ears.

And this could be the answer to their prayers. Merlin knew it was Agravaine betraying Arthur, but he also knew Arthur was never going to believe it, not if he was the one saying it anyway. But if strangers, completely unbiased in the matter, would reach the conclusion that Arthur’s uncle was up to no good, then he just might have to listen. Maybe something good would come from this mess after all.

It was the last few words that did the trick. Merlin could swear he saw something, a spark of some kind, in Harry’s eyes. ‘Based on what we’ve already seen from you, I have no doubt that arrangement could work,’ he said. Something told Merlin he had also seen the magic, but for some reason he chose not to tell Arthur.

‘ _Mer_ lin! What on earth do you think you’re doing?’ Arthur protested.

 _Saving Camelot, as per usual_. ‘If we help them, they deal with the traitor,’ Merlin replied. He knew everyone could hear him loud and clear, but he didn’t really care now. This could really work. These people were professional spies. If anyone could reveal Agravaine for the traitor that he was, it would be them. And if the price for that help was that he would use some of his talents to help them clear up their mess, then that was a price he was prepared to pay.

Arthur glanced around the room, trying to decide whether these people were trustworthy. But, to be honest, that wasn’t really the matter here. They were relying on them to let them go home anyway.

‘I’ll sign, you’ll help us find the traitor in my kingdom,’ he stated.

Harry nodded. ‘After we’ve dealt with the threat at hand. We could use Merlin’s help on that operation.’

Arthur looked at Merlin, disbelieving. ‘I can’t think what you want with Merlin,’ he told the group of spies. ‘He’s a complete idiot most of the time.’

‘It is our price,’ Lucas pointed out. Merlin saw some kind of spark in his eyes. If he was not mistaken, Lucas was very eager to get his help on this one.

‘Fine,’ Arthur agreed. ‘I’ll sign.’ He pulled out his royal seal.

The elderly woman made a disapproving noise. ‘Just your signature will do, thank you,’ she told him.

Arthur frowned, not understanding.

The man next to the woman leaned towards her, muttering ‘I think that _is_ his signature’ under his breath.

Merlin suddenly wasn’t so sure anymore that they could help each other. He had a feeling that this was only the first of many misunderstandings.

 

***

 

‘What were you thinking, Harry?’ Ros demanded, storming into her boss’s office without knocking.

Harry was seated behind his desk, indulging in a glass of whisky whilst reading the latest reports on Nadif Abdul Rashid, the leader of the Al-Qaeda cell they were currently keeping under very tight surveillance.

‘Knock!’ he snapped at her. ‘Honestly, people, do I need to keep asking?’

She ignored that, holding up the two documents with the signatures of their apparently not-so-dangerous men. ‘How on earth are we going to explain this?’ The names Merlin and Arthur Pendragon were written on the dotted lines, Arthur’s name being accompanied by his sodding royal seal. Somehow she doubted that would go down well. ‘And why do I suddenly have characters from the Arthurian legend on the Grid acting like spies?’

‘Merlin is a spy,’ Harry said, sighing. ‘Take a chair, Ros.’

She sat down, although reluctantly. This situation didn’t please her at all. She liked to plan things all out, no liabilities and if anything, these two intruders were. They knew next to nothing about them, except that which the legends said about them and even legend seemed to be wrong on more than one point. She could not recall one single version in which Merlin was a spy in Camelot, let alone that he was King Arthur’s manservant.

‘I don’t bloody like it, Harry,’ she repeated.

‘Merlin’s magic might come in handy, Ros,’ Harry pointed out. ‘This coming attack could get very big and very dirty. His magic will give us an advantage.’

There was not much arguing with that, really. As much as Ros failed to comprehend the fact that magic apparently was real (although the very proof for that was currently on the Grid), she had to admit that this dark-haired clumsy young man knew how to use powers that were not normal at the very least.

Harry could see she was about to protest. ‘This is non-negotiable, Ros.’

‘He’s keeping secrets,’ she argued. ‘He was almost scared out of his wits when I threatened him to tell Arthur about his magical activities. Arthur obviously doesn’t know.’

‘He’s a spy,’ Harry countered. ‘Our lot is made of secrets.’

Something still wasn’t right about this. She looked over her shoulder through the window of Harry’s office. Merlin, now dressed in some of Ben’s clothes that Jo had fetched for him, was sitting next to Malcolm, listening intently as the computer expert brought him up to speed with the modern technologies he would need in the field. She had to admit that she had no longer any reasonable doubts about the truth of his story. Any doubts that she still might have left had vanished when she had listened to the conversation of the two legendary figures as they were escorted to the meeting room. They had no idea that they were being listened to, so they had spoken without too much reservations. And Ros knew when people were being genuine. That wasn’t the problem now.

She couldn’t pinpoint what exactly the problem was and that was what was bothering her. Maybe it was the vague notion in the back of her head that Merlin was supposed to be an old man with a long white beard. And maybe she couldn’t just help but being wary. She was a spook, after all. It was in her nature.

She looked at Arthur, now dressed in some of Lucas’s clothes. Somehow they didn’t suit him and the fact that the Once and Future King looked more than a little uncomfortable didn’t help either. He gave the, probable very accurate, impression of someone who doesn’t want to be here.

Her first impression of Arthur Pendragon was a loud-mouthed, arrogant king, but his panic and shouting masked an intellect that she had almost overlooked. He genuinely cared for his servant, no matter how hard he tried to disguise it. It made her like him just a little bit better.

Merlin was the complete opposite. On first sight he was charming and as open as one could be, but that cheerful behaviour hid a man that was apparently, as Harry had so eloquently phrased it, made of secrets. And people that were keeping secrets were almost always up to something bad. So she promised herself to keep a close eye on him, at least until she had determined that he truly was no threat to them.

‘Are you going to tell the Home Secretary about them?’ she asked.

‘And give him a real heart attack this time?’ Harry scoffed.

Ros snorted. ‘Bloody politicians.’

‘Take Merlin with you to your meet with Adam’s old asset,’ he ordered. ‘It might be useful.’

Somehow Ros seriously doubted that.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin tries his hand at some modern day spying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the beginning of my take of Spooks 7x03, but with a lot of twists and a very different outcome.

The Grid, as the spies called this place, was a place of wonders. Merlin spent most of the night sitting next to Malcolm, listening as the elderly man explained the technologies of the twenty-first century to him. Merlin soon learned that he shouldn’t try to understand what made these devices all work. So instead he settled for trying to understand how they needed to be handled, which was difficult enough most of the time.

He had had moments during the last few hours when he seriously doubted the wisdom of his decision to ask these people for help in revealing Agravaine for the foul traitor that he was. He didn’t understand most of the things Malcolm told him, but he did understand what he had been told about this organisation called Al-Qaeda (‘a group of merry men who devote their lives to blowing up people in the name of their religion’, according to Connie) and their plans for an attack on London, the city they were currently in. He had come to the unpleasant conclusion that life in Camelot wasn’t always fun, but even with all their magical creatures, immortal armies and evil sorcerers it sounded a hundred times safer than this place. At least Morgana would not let a bomb explode on the streets of Camelot.

He forced himself not to lose sight of why he did this. They needed to catch Agravaine before he could cause any more trouble than he already had. These spies could help them do exactly that. And, if he was being really honest, it was not all bad. It was strangely exiting even. For the first time he would be able to use his magic openly in front of people, as long as Arthur was out of sight, of course. But still, it was a relief not to have to keep it a secret from everyone. It definitely made for a nice change.

And so they had worked through the night, but Merlin didn’t feel tired at all. The excitement of being in the future, assisting in a real “operation” was keeping him awake and alert. Besides, this wouldn’t be the first time he skipped a night of sleep.

The people here were nice as well. Malcolm had explained him the devices they used, multiple times if he needed it, the blonde woman, Jo, had fetched clothes and some hot liquid she called coffee for them both, Lucas had explained to them what the matter was on which his help was needed and Connie had commented every now and then, but always nicely. Ros had stopped by a few times, but Merlin got the idea that she avoided him.

‘I think she doesn’t like me,’ Merlin told Jo in the very early hours of the morning. Ros had just marched past them and gave him a stern glare as she did so.

‘Ros doesn’t like many people,’ Jo replied. She looked up from the reports she was supposed to be studying. ‘It isn’t personal.’

Merlin raised his eyebrows. That was not the impression he got.

Jo laughed. ‘Really, Merlin,’ she insisted. ‘Try to ignore her. She’s not a social person. She never was. And she recently lost someone she really cared about, so…’ She let her voice trail off. ‘Anyway, she’s got some heavy emotional luggage. But then, we all have.’

Somehow Merlin doubted that. They all appeared so… normal, when you looked past the fact that they were all spies, that is.

She must have seen his face. ‘We’re good at hiding things.’

He saw a flash of something in her eyes. ‘What happened to you?’ he asked in a soft voice.

‘I was abducted,’ she replied, not meeting his eyes. ‘Along with a colleague of mine. They got us out in the end, but it was hard.’ From the way she told it Merlin got the idea that hard was something of an understatement. ‘It was only for a day, so I can’t really complain. Lucas, he’s been a captive for eight years before we got him back.’

He frowned. ‘Aren’t they going to get angry when they find out what you’re telling me?’ He got the idea that these people were obsessed with secrecy.

‘You signed the Act,’ she replied, shrugging. ‘And you’re practically one of the team now. We don’t need to keep secrets here.’

He glanced at Ros, who was standing at the other end of the room, berating some other colleague of hers for something. ‘I’m not sure your boss agrees.’

‘She’s got her reasons.’ Jo bit her lip. ‘But she’s a good Section Chief and Harry likes her.’ _From which I’m guessing that you don’t_. ‘She has…’

‘… Betrayed this country not once, but twice?’ a sharp voice finished. Merlin turned so quickly he almost fell of the edge of Jo’s desk. Ros was standing there, her cold eyes fixed on the now very ashamed looking junior officer. Merlin wondered how on earth she had managed to creep up on them so soon after they had been watching her. ‘So good to see that you have time for gossip, Joanna. I take it that means you finished your analysis of those reports?’

Jo’s cheeks coloured deep crimson. ‘I’m on it.’

‘I should bloody well hope so,’ Ros said icily. She managed to make it sound like a threat. She then turned to Merlin. ‘You, with me!’

She marched away to the room where they had signed the Official Secrets Act, which apparently was the meeting room. Merlin had no choice but to follow. He caught a pitying look from Arthur, who had heard Ros’s command. The king of Camelot called a ‘Good luck!’ in his direction. Merlin couldn’t escape the idea that he was going to need it.

 _Betrayed this country not once, but twice._ Ros’s words echoed in his mind. She had said those words in an angry tone. Angry, but not embarrassed. Nothing betrayed that she was ashamed of doing something that horrible. He found himself wondering why she was still doing this kind of work, why she had been _allowed_ to do this kind of work after that. Apparently her treason was widely known, so why was no one doing something about it? But no, her orders were obeyed without question, without hesitation. Her colleagues even seemed to hold her in high regard, despite her total lack of social skills. The woman was a complete mystery.

‘Lucas, Arthur!’ Ros yelled, her sharp voice snapping Merlin out of his thoughts.

Arthur had demanded that he too would be allowed to take part in whatever they needed Merlin for. The warlock guessed this was because he wanted to keep him out of trouble and thought wryly that it would probably be the other way around. Ros had grinded her teeth in frustration, but after Arthur had shown them his skills in fighting and moving around very quietly, the result of years and years of hunting trips, Harry had overruled her and given him permission to go out into the field, arguing that they could use all the help they could get. Ros had muttered something about them not being in the Service, but Harry had told her that this was non-negotiable and she had backed off.

Harry was already in the meeting room when they entered, Lucas and Arthur following closely behind.

‘Right,’ he said when they were all seated. ‘Ros, how late is that meet?’

‘In an hour,’ she replied.

‘Are the newbies up to speed on the operation?’

Merlin nodded, trying not to grimace. Arthur had no such control, glaring at the head of Section D. He may be the king of Camelot, but he was new to spying, which made him a newbie in Harry’s very experienced eyes. Jo had mentioned that he had been doing this job for decades.

‘And the contact?’

‘Not yet, Harry,’ Lucas said. ‘We needed to explain the technology as well.’

‘Fill them in, Ros.’

She pointed something called a remote control at the screen on the wall and it flared to life, something that kept interesting Merlin even after a night of screens doing just that. It now showed the face of a bearded man, looking at them emotionlessly.

‘Marlin,’ Ros announced. ‘Pakistani military intelligence. He was first run by the former Section Chief. Lucas, you’re his new contact.’

Lucas nodded. ‘I read his file.’

‘Good,’ Ros said. ‘Arthur?’

The king of Camelot was frowning at the screen. ‘Where is this so-called Pakistan?’ he asked. Merlin was actually glad that he asked. He hadn’t heard of Pakistan before, but from the way the people here had mentioned it, he gathered it was another kingdom. But what this land had to do with England (where they were now) had not yet become clear to him.

There was a short, almost disbelieving, silence, but then Lucas took over the report, pointing the remote control at the screen again, which presented them with a map. ‘Here’s England,’ he pointed. ‘And there’s Pakistan.’

Merlin blinked, and blinked again. And so did Arthur. ‘But that’s what? The other end of the world! How could that probably affect us?’

Lucas smiled wryly. ‘Welcome to the future,’ he commented sarcastically.

‘We have better means of transport,’ Ros replied briskly. ‘We travel a whole lot faster than you are used to these days, I’m afraid.’ Remembering the van in which they were brought here and the speed with which it moved, Merlin believed that immediately. In this time it would probably take up hardly any time at all to get to the other end of the world.

‘Pakistan,’ Lucas repeated. ‘It’s situated in a very explosive region, mostly literally so these days. We have been not so nice in that region, so now they think they should stir up some trouble here as a punishment.’

‘Explosive trouble?’ Arthur asked. He had spent the better part of the night with Connie, listening to her description of the problems in this age. Merlin would almost say that he actually cared about what happened here.

‘We believe so,’ Harry said. ‘So Lucas, Merlin and Ros, get yourself down there. Get that information. Arthur and I are going to figure out what we’re going to tell the Home Secretary during our meeting later this morning.’

Ros’s eyebrows shot up. ‘He’s coming?’

‘Good experience for him. He’s a politician, so is our king here.’ Harry looked very pleased with himself. ‘They should get along spectacularly.’

Ros’s dismissive snort told him that she seriously doubted that. ‘I’d like to see that,’ she commented. ‘I’ll make sure I’m back in time then, shall I? Let’s go.’

Merlin followed Lucas and Ros out of the meeting room. To his own surprise he was feeling nervous. This wasn’t the first time he was doing some spying. He had been doing so in Camelot on a very regular basis. It also wasn’t the first time that he was talking to someone who had information about an oncoming attack. But this was the first time he was going to do it officially. Maybe it wasn’t so strange he was nervous, after all.

 

***

 

The drive down to the meeting place was a silent one, for which Ros was grateful. She felt like her head was spinning with all these new developments. It was a bit hard to believe that not twenty-four hours ago she had been sitting behind her desk with nothing more to occupy her mind than Ben’s undercover operation. It could almost have been a normal day, until Lucas had come to her with his suspicions about the medieval dress-up party.

Now she was wishing she had ignored him. King Arthur and his clumsy sidekick were hardly a security risk and if she had done nothing, she wouldn’t have needed to put up with them being involved with her operation, a development with which she was none too pleased. Apart from the fact that they knew next to nothing about them (the legend was apparently not a good source when it came to them), she had no idea if their abilities were up to her high standards. The last thing she needed was their temporary helper to trip over his own feet in the middle of an operation or the legendary king to announce his identity to an Al-Qaeda terror suspect.

Lucas parked the car nearby and they walked the last part.

‘Do you think he’ll show?’ Lucas asked as they walked.

‘I don’t know,’ Ros replied. But then, you were never sure that an asset would come to the agreed meeting until you saw him. ‘Adam swore by him,’ she added. That was good enough for her. He had gathered some very good assets over the years. She ran some of them herself these days and their information was always good.

Merlin frowned. ‘Who’s Adam?’

‘Our former Section Chief,’ Ros said curtly, hoping that he wouldn’t be too thick to get the message that this was a subject she had no desire to discuss right now. Talking about Adam was still painful to her, so she rather avoided talking about him altogether. ‘He died not long ago,’ she added reluctantly when Merlin gave her a blank face.

She saw in his eyes that he understood what she was talking about, and a bit more too. It would seem that Jo had wasted no time in bringing Merlin up to speed on the officers’ private lives as well as their professional activities. As soon as she had the time she would tell the junior officer exactly what she thought about that kind of behaviour.

Lucas, doubtlessly feeling that this conversation was headed in the wrong direction, intervened. ‘It’s a very good asset, Pakistani military intelligence,’ he commented, which Ros believed was rather stating the obvious.

‘Yeah, well, he was well connected,’ she replied briskly, shoving her hands deeper in her pockets as they waited for Marlin to arrive. Thanks to the meeting with Harry they were already late, so she had expected him to be here before them. If there was one thing she hated, it was to be kept waiting.

Merlin was glancing around him as well, obviously ill at ease in a place that was so different from the one he was used to.

‘All right there, Merlin?’ Lucas asked.

The legendary warlock shot them a big smile. ‘Why shouldn’t I be?’

Ros could think of a few reasons, but she didn’t get the time to list them, even if she would have wanted to, which she didn’t. Marlin came walking down to them. Ros was tempted to roll her eyes. She had gone with Adam a few times to see him and she had yet to see him dressed in anything else than a crisp clean suit and tie. She doubted even the PM was dressed better.

‘Marlin,’ she acknowledged.

The Pakistani’s eyes studied Lucas and Merlin with some suspicion. ‘Who are they?’ he asked.

Ros plastered a smile on her face. ‘Your new best friends,’ she told him. _Please don’t let him be difficult_. The last thing she needed was for this man to distrust them.

‘Friends are overrated,’ Marlin replied.

 _Shit_. It didn’t happen very often, but from time to time an asset’s handler changed and occasionally the asset didn’t trust his new contact. When that happened there was every chance of losing the asset in question. Ros knew they could not afford to lose this one, especially not now.

It was Lucas who saved the situation. ‘I agree,’ he said with an air of nonchalance. ‘Friends are either a nuisance or they’re boring.’

Marlin let out a nervous laugh. ‘Precisely. You can only trust your family.’

Ros didn’t know why she glanced at Merlin when he said that, but she did catch the quick expression of suspicion that flashed across his face. He must have heard the same thing that she had. There was some kind of meaning behind these words. This wasn’t just a small getting-to-know-each-other conversation. Maybe Lucas was sincere when he spoke about friends (she tended to believe so anyway), but Marlin had meant something else with his reply. Grudgingly she had to admit that the clumsy man was quick. Maybe they could work together, if only she could bring herself to trust him.

‘Oh, I wouldn’t even be so sure of that actually,’ Lucas countered, trying to trigger a reaction from their asset.

Marlin did no such thing. ‘Excellent,’ he said admiringly. ‘No faith in human nature at all.’ He turned back to Ros, a smile on his face. ‘A man after my own heart.’

Ros could only just keep herself from exhaling in relief. At least he had accepted Lucas as his new contact and if he was hiding something, they would find that out later, after they had dealt with the current crisis. And besides, it could be nothing more than a healthy dose of fear. Ros doubted his superiors would like him talking to them. If they found out, Marlin would find himself in more trouble than he could stomach.

‘The way things are in Pakistan at the moment, I imagine you have to watch your back,’ Lucas assumed. How strange, they had thought about the same thing at the same time.

‘Things are certainly… interesting.’ Marlin hesitated for half a second before saying that last word.

‘Are things going to get interesting for us?’ Lucas urged.

‘I gave you Nadif Abdul Rashid. He’s a big fish, Al-Qaeda’s new European coordinator,’ Marlin pointed out, as if he wanted to say that he had already given them everything he had. And Ros didn’t believe that for even a second. There had to be more, there always was.

She was tempted to say that Samir was actually the one that had given them Nadif, fairly quickly too, as soon as he had been given accommodation in their cells. But Samir only had Nadif’s name. He didn’t know anything else, which was the reason they had turned to Marlin. He had some very good assets in Al-Qaeda itself and they usually provided him with useful information. And he had best give them some of it now.

‘We’re on Nadif,’ she all but snapped. ‘What else can you tell us?’ She noticed that both Merlin and Lucas were on full alert now too. Lucas’s attitude was tense and alert, but Merlin’s was still suspicious. Ros wished she could say that was not necessary, but there was something about Marlin that made her uneasy as well. And if they had both a feeling that something was off, it usually was.

‘It will start with a waterfall,’ Marlin replied.

Merlin frowned. ‘A waterfall?’ Ros also failed to get the meaning of this. The only thing she could picture was a literal waterfall and she didn’t think that was what Marlin meant.

The Pakistani was clearly looking for the right words. ‘An explosion of internet chatter,’ he clarified eventually. ‘Threats of every type, noise.’ Ros nodded to signal that she got that and Marlin continued: ‘And right after the noise comes the dry run, which Nadif will mastermind.’

‘Okay, noise, dry run,’ Ros summarised.

‘Then they bring in a second team for the real thing and…’ Marlin snapped his fingers. ‘Boom,’ he finished.

Merlin looked uneasy. The thought of bombs, yet unknown in his precious Camelot, was probably terrifying for him. But apart from an uncomfortable look in his eyes, he was firmly in control. Maybe he really would make for a good spook, at least a better one than his noisy friend.

‘Why now?’ he demanded. ‘There must be something that triggers such an action.’

That was a good question. He didn’t only ask the usual questions of who, what, where and when, but he also wanted to know the why, the reason behind it. Harry had probably been right to bring him in on this one.

‘You’ve dealt them some blows, so now they’ve got to get nasty,’ Marlin replied. ‘Civilian casualties, of course, but also something that undermines confidence; banks going under, homes repossessed… People are frightened.’

 _Tell me all about it_ , Ros thought wryly. She could all too clearly picture the result of a bomb explosion of Al-Qaeda magnitude. Unfortunately, they didn’t do small attacks. _Bloody fanatics._

‘How do you know all this?’ Merlin questioned, his eyes never leaving the other man’s face. His distrust of his almost namesake had not lessened one bit. How strange, he had not struck her as a suspicious type at all.

If she’d have blinked she might have missed the uneasy expression that flashed across their asset’s face. ‘I have my sources,’ he said reluctantly. ‘Sources deep inside Al-Qaeda. I can’t reveal their names. I am sure you’ll understand.’

Her intuition flickered. He definitely was hiding something and as soon as this crisis was dealt with, she would find out what that was.

But she also knew when to stop. ‘We understand,’ she said, earning her a glare of Merlin’s for interrupting his questioning.

Marlin nodded, turning to Lucas. ‘Stay on Nadif, my friend. He is the key to everything.’ Before they got the chance to say anything else, he had turned around and walked away, leaving them with the information they had been looking for.

‘He’s hiding something,’ Merlin said as soon as the Pakistani was out of earshot.

Ros shot him a very insincere smile. ‘Is that the pot calling the kettle black?’ she wondered. And when Merlin gave her a death glare that could rival her own, she added: ‘We’ll deal with Marlin. Let’s just handle this crisis first.’

‘But…’ he started to protest.

Since he was now one of her officers she was probably not allowed to slap him, no matter how much she wanted to. ‘Multitasking is seriously overrated,’ she snapped. ‘And I have a Home Secretary to meet.’ She turned on her heels and walked back to the car, leaving the two men with no choice but to follow.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur meets a certain Home Secretary.

**Chapter 10**

 

Arthur was used to being in the centre of power. Camelot was one such centre after all. But this place called Whitehall gave him a very uneasy feeling. Or maybe it were just these clothes their new allies had made him wear. He was now dressed in something the woman named Connie called a suit and tie, something all important men in this time and place wore.

Connie and Malcolm had spent a good few hours of their time trying to explain to him the politics of this time, which Ros, in the short time she had been listening, had labelled a waste of everyone’s time. But Arthur was a king and he had dealt with politics all his life. He wasn’t an idiot either, no matter what Merlin might think. So yes, this was all new to him and he really wanted to do nothing more than return to Camelot this very instant, but he could cope. If you survived what he had survived, you didn’t really complain about so small a discomfort.

If he was being really honest with himself, he even had to admit that Merlin’s plan, to let these people find out who the traitor really was, was a bit of smart and quick thinking on his servant’s part. If that meant that he had to talk to the “Home Secretary” in return, that wasn’t such a high price to pay.

So, here he was, sitting beside Harry on a bench in a corridor of Whitehall, waiting for Ros to join them. Harry had said he wanted Arthur with him to deal with this Home Secretary by the name of Nicholas Blake, because he was supposed to be good with politicians, something Merlin must have told him. But because Mr Blake would probably be unable to cope with the fact that he was the real king Arthur (it still came across as strange to him that he was apparently a figure from a famous legend), he had been provided with what these people called a legend.

Right now, he was Aidan Parker, Senior Case Officer in Section D, recently recruited from another section. He had been given all kinds of identification cards with his new name and his face on it. Arthur still marvelled at the technologies in this time, but he learned soon enough that the best way to deal with all this new impressions was to simply go with it.

Merlin had suffered an identity change as well. When the officers of Section D had discovered that Merlin was not in the possession of a surname, they had simply created one for him. According to his identification cards, Merlin was now Matthew Eliot, a name that didn’t suit the clumsy servant at all. But apparently surnames were needed here. Well, it was better than nothing, Arthur supposed.

The clicking of high heels announced the arrival of Ros Myers. Arthur hadn’t known her for long, but the expression on her face was strangely familiar. She had used that exact same look on Merlin and him for the last few hours. Only now, it had increased in tenfold. She was furious.

‘Bloody fanatics!’ she fumed as she joined them.

‘News?’ Harry asked.

Ros quickly reported the chat they had with the man she had gone to meet, which was easily summarised as _noise, dry run, boom_. Arthur didn’t really get the part about the noise, but the dry run and the boom were not that hard to understand, even if you were not from this age. Arthur had seen his fair share of boom over the last few years, enough to know that it never meant anything good. Apparently boom was even more dangerous here, in a city with millions of people.

‘But a dry run is good, right?’ he asked as they walked towards the office of the Home Secretary. ‘We know what they are going to do before they actually do it.’

Ros shot him a disbelieving look as if she had trouble understanding that he had said something intelligent. ‘Yes,’ she admitted, sounding surprised.

They were silent for the remainder of the walk. Arthur used the time to take in his surroundings. In a strange way this place reminded him of Camelot. It had that same solemn atmosphere that the throne room and council chamber had. There were a lot of differences between Camelot and London, but when it came down to it, the essence was the same. People were not so different here. The only thing different was the reason _why_ they caused mayhem.

The Home Secretary, Nicholas Blake, was somewhat of a disappointment. The man seemed nice enough, but somehow Arthur had the idea that a leader should be more impressive. He should definitely be in a better physical shape. This man didn’t look like he had any recent training.

‘Who’s this?’ Blake demanded after he had shaken hands with both Harry and Ros.

‘Aidan Parker, Senior Case Officer,’ Harry introduced. ‘Aidan’s our new Middle-Eastern expert. You’ll understand that in the current situation we were in need of one.’ Harry didn’t even blink as he smoothly told the lies, betraying years and years of experience in that particular field.

Arthur had to work his hardest not to show his surprise at that announcement. That had not been a part of the agreed lines. Arthur hardly knew anything about the region they had referred to as the Middle East, apart from the bits and pieces the other officers had told him. When tested, it would be clear immediately that he wasn’t an expert on anything related to this age, let alone the Middle East.

The Home Secretary, however, didn’t even call it into question. He smiled at Arthur, extending his hand and Arthur shook it. ‘Pleasure to meet you, Mr Parker.’

‘Likewise,’ Arthur said, not sure if he meant that.

‘Please, be seated.’ Blake beckoned to the chairs in front of his desk. ‘Good call, Harry,’ he added. ‘Especially after you lost Adam Carter.’

Arthur hadn’t exactly been watching Blake, so he saw the quick expression of pain on Ros’s face and anger on Harry’s. From what Connie had told him he had learned that Adam Carter had been the Section Chief before Ros, but that he had recently died in another explosion. That had been a great loss, because this man apparently knew everything there was to know about the region Arthur was now pretending to be omniscient about. He sincerely hoped Blake would not feel the urge to test his non-existent knowledge. He suddenly wondered why Harry had thought it a good idea to take him with him to this particular meeting.

The Home Secretary also settled in his chair again. ‘Tell me, Harry, what news do you have?’

 

***

 

Ros knew almost immediately that she didn’t belong here in this chair, in this office or even in this very building. She was made to be out in the field, not to dance this careful politician’s dance. She was thrilled about finally being Section Chief, but meetings with Nicholas Blake were one of the things of the position that she could have done without. But Ros, being a spook, managed to plaster a convincing expression of mild interest on her face as Harry did Arthur’s introduction. It faltered a second when Blake mentioned Adam’s name so casually, but after that she kept it firmly in place.

‘Tell me, Harry,’ Nicholas Blake invited as he sat down again, pouring himself a cup of tea. ‘What news do you have?’

Harry smiled pleasantly. ‘We had a situation with our cousins the other day,’ he informed the politician on the other side of the desk. ‘They’ve been a bit uncooperative lately.’

The expression on Blake’s face told Ros that he was fully briefed on the matter. The man was intelligent, one of the few things Ros actually admired in the Home Secretary, although she didn’t like the fact that he was so obviously aware of all the more unpleasant details of her past, the very reason why the CIA was refusing to help them.

‘Ah, yes,’ Blake said thoughtfully.

‘Of course we would very much like them to come to their senses without our help, but in the unfortunate situation where that might not be the case, I’d like to remind them, pleasantly of course, about the escapades of a certain man by the name of Bob Hogan,’ Harry continued.

Bob Hogan. The mere mention of that man’s name made bile rise in her throat again. Ros had never liked the pompous, self-centred CIA-man, even before she got involved with Yalta. But when she had learned what he had done when she was “seeing the sights” in Moscow, that strong dislike turned to downright hatred. Bob Hogan had gone freelance once he had retired from the CIA. He had always been self-serving, but earning a fortune by selling both Jo and Adam out to an organisation that tortured intelligence officers for information only to sell that information, that was about as low as you could go. Jo still had trouble dealing with what had happened to her then. The worst thing about the whole sorry affair was probably that the Americans had spirited Hogan away before they could even begin to demand him back for interrogation. Extradition demands had been met either with silence or a nasty reminder that MI-5 had a bad apple in their midst as well, which would be Ros.

‘I don’t need to tell you that you’ll need to tread with care, Harry,’ the Home Secretary said. ‘We can’t afford to distance our cousins too far from us.’

That was the wrong thing to say. Harry felt just as strongly about the Americans’ behaviour as Ros did, maybe even more so. His face darkened. ‘We can’t allow this situation to continue.’ You had to know him well to hear the barely controlled anger underneath the polite tone. ‘We had a potential threat to national security last night. The CIA’s refusal to help could very well have caused disaster on the streets of London.’ Again, you had to know him well to make sense of the clever mix of truths, lies and half-truths. But Ros agreed with her boss that they didn’t need to give this politician any more information than he really needed to have. ‘Of course we’ll be careful not to treat them too harshly,’ he added. Ros just had the feeling that he defined harshly a little different from the politician.

Nicholas Blake finally nodded. ‘Very well. Do what you have to do.’ He sighed and stirred his tea. ‘Now, what’s the threat level at the moment?’

Ros had already been asking herself how long it would take him to get to that. He had done nothing but complaining about it for the last few weeks, ever since they had raised the threat level to severe, that is. Apparently severe was bad for his image, which meant that it was bad for the outcome of the polls. Thank God she had actually nothing to do with that.

‘Severe,’ Harry replied curtly. They had probably gone over this before.

The Home Secretary removed the spoon from his cup. ‘Could we give the glass a little tap?’ he asked hopefully. ‘Take it down to moderate? Or lower.’

 _In your dreams_. And here she was thinking that they finally had a Home Secretary who actually cared about something more than his popularity.

‘You want us to reduce the feel-bad factor?’ Harry asked in a disbelieving voice.

Blake started what appeared to be a lecture on how a high threat level was bad for Britain’s economy. She could only take so much, and this was too much. ‘The Service of course isn’t actually responsible for carrying government business,’ she pointed out, as calm as she could manage.

That didn’t go down well. ‘Actually, Miss Meyers, I tell you what the Service is responsible for, not the other way around.’

The door opened and a young man, probably one of Blake’s assistants, came in with a paper for him to sign. His arrival made her stop long enough to bite back the sarcastic and very inappropriate reply that was just dying to come out of her mouth, something along the lines of how she had always believed that it actually was the government’s business to ensure the safety of its citizens, not the safety of its own image. A quick sideward glance learned that neither Harry nor Arthur were very pleased with Blake either. The former looked daggers at the politician, while the latter was taking deep breaths to control himself. Hm, it would seem that she wasn’t the only one who had to check their tongue.

Harry was the one that reacted in the end. ‘And we are telling you what the threat level is,’ he countered. ‘Currently it’s severe.’

‘Thank you, Nigel,’ Blake said after scribbling something down, dismissing the man. He took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for the worst. ‘Okay then, Harry. Tell me all about the threat.’

Ros began to outline the problems, mentioned the fact that they had an officer undercover in an active Al-Qaeda cell and briefly summarised Nadif’s background and his role in the expected attack. He interrupted her a few times, trying to get her to tell him that this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, even going as far as to demand why they had not already arrested Nadif.

‘We’re still gathering intelligence,’ Harry explained.

Blake snorted. ‘A bit twentieth century, don’t you think?’

 _We’re the bloody intelligence service_ , Ros thought. _What else are we going to do? Apart from preventing tomorrow’s Armageddon, that is._ She could only just stop herself from translating that thought into the spoken word.

‘Quietly close down the cell and you close down the threat,’ Blake instructed. ‘Close down the threat…’

‘… And you might get a bounce in the polls,’ Harry helpfully finished.

Now he had succeeded in angering Blake. ‘Believe it or not, Harry, this isn’t about polls. It’s about jobs and housing and pulling through a real crisis.’

‘Whereas the current crisis isn’t real?’ Arthur had finally lost patience.

Blake looked at the young king. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Nadif Abdul Rashid is going to detonate several bombs in this city,’ Arthur pointed out. ‘I have always thought it was the leader’s responsibility to keep his people safe from harm.’

Ros was taken aback for a few seconds. She’d rather that he had kept quiet during this meeting. But he was right, of course. And at the same time she also saw something of a real leader in him, the kind that they would need to sit behind that desk, who thought of his people first and everything else later. Maybe there was a good reason why he had ended up being a figure of legendary proportions, even if they had trouble seeing that now.

‘Nadif will bring in a second cell to carry out the actual attack, but we have no idea who that team is,’ she backed him up. ‘We’ll have to watch and wait.’

Blake was not going to give up that easily, unfortunately. ‘Arrest Nadif,’ he said. ‘And I’ll arrange a mini-weekend away break for him in Algeria.’

Ros wouldn’t have been surprised if the men on either side of her had steam coming out of their ears. They both looked like their blood had reached boiling point.

‘You cannot believe for a second that I will allow you to do this!’ Harry hissed.

Blake was opening his mouth to reply, but Arthur cut him off. ‘If Al-Qaeda has no problems changing teams, how many trouble do you think they’ll have switching leaders?’ he demanded. ‘For all we know, there could be another man waiting to take over. We will know nothing about that man, but we _do_ have information on Nadif.’

Ros suddenly was glad Malcolm and Connie hadn’t listened to her when she had called briefing Arthur and Merlin a waste of time. Arthur may have given the first impression of a loud-mouthed idiot, but what if that was only because of his confusion at what was happening to him? Clearly he knew what he was doing now.

‘If we take Nadif out, we’ll have no idea of what the enemy is planning and the attack will probably happen regardless,’ Arthur stated. ‘If you make us arrest Nadif, the lives of the people who will most certainly die in that bombing will be on your conscience, Mr Home Secretary. The question you need to ask yourself is: can you live with that?’

It hadn’t even occurred to Ros, but he could very well be right. A born king, she couldn’t help but think. He might not have the calmness to discuss delicate matters without raising his voice, but he could definitely scare people into things. She suspected that in Camelot he simply threw people in the dungeon when they disagreed with him. Unfortunately that power didn’t stretch to Whitehall.

Blake was struck dumb for a few seconds, staring at Arthur in pure disbelief. The king himself had somehow ended up on his feet, positively glaring at the politician. The way he stood, eyes sparking in anger, hands clenched into fists, feet slightly apart, he reminded her of Adam when he was having one of his fits. Adam could act exactly like the ancient king, although she had to admit he never did it in front of politicians.

‘I think you are forgetting yourself, Mr Parker,’ Nicholas Blake said through gritted teeth.

Any other would have known it was time to back off. Arthur Pendragon had no such intention. ‘I think not, Mr Blake,’ he said, a sudden icy tone in his voice.

Ros imagined this was the tone he used when he sentenced criminals to die at the stake. If there was a moment she had to name when she realised that he truly was the king of Camelot, that wouldn’t be when he had shouted it for all of Section D to hear, but now, when he addressed one of Britain’s most powerful men as if he was his subordinate, lecturing him on how to run this country.

‘It is your duty to protect the citizens of this kingdom to the best of your abilities,’ Arthur went on, eyes still blazing with righteous fury. ‘Your decisions would put them in mortal danger. If you want to lower the threat level, you’ll let us do our job. And you’ll let us do it our way.’ _Or else…_ The words weren’t spoken, but everyone with a brain could hear them.

‘Sit down, Aidan,’ Harry said. ‘That’s enough.’

It took Arthur a few seconds to realise that Harry was talking to him and then he sent a death glare his way too. But something in Harry’s eyes made him obey, although it was clear it was with some reluctance.

‘He’s right, Nicholas,’ the head of Section D said calmly. ‘We need to do our job properly. Until we have done that, the threat level remains on severe.’

Ros tried not to snort. If Marlin was right, it might even go to critical before all this was over. Now that would give this political dinosaur a proper heart attack.

Blake leaned over his desk. ‘We are going to downgrade the threat level, because the general public needs some good news,’ he told Harry. Harry often said he considered him a good friend, but if this was the way friends treated each other nowadays, she might need to downgrade her definition of friendship, Ros thought. And if she knew her boss at all, that was all that was ever getting downgraded here today.

‘Then arrange a royal wedding,’ Harry countered, earning him an annoyed ‘Harry…’ in reply, which he ignored. He grabbed his jacket and stood up. ‘We stay on Nadif and my officer remains undercover until operational reasons dictate otherwise. Or else get Nigel out there to take care of national security. Come on, Ros, Aidan.’ He literally marched out of the office.

Arthur didn’t have any problems with following that particular order. The expression on his face made it all too clear that wanted to be anywhere but here. Ros, feeling the need pacify the now very explosive situation, leaned over the desk, forcing her face into what she hoped was a kind of apologetic smile. ‘He always walks a little taller after a haircut,’ she told him.

The Home secretary snorted, but she could tell he was amused and no longer ready to explode.

Ros got up and walked over to the door. ‘Having said that, they were both right,’ she added. She had the door closed behind her before he could react.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The operation is really getting started.

**Chapter 11**

 

Merlin was on his third cup of coffee since he entered the surveillance van by the time something finally happened. If he had to name one thing that was most definitely better here than it was in Camelot, it was probably the existence of this hot liquid. So far he had consumed six cups in the short time he had been in London. Other inventions were good as well, although he still felt sick after a trip in their cars. It just wasn’t natural to travel so fast.

‘All right, Merlin?’ Lucas asked. He was staring at the images the outside cameras (CCTV, he thought it was called) provided them with, holding a cup of coffee of his own.

‘I’m fine,’ he said. It wasn’t even a complete lie at the moment. It was just that Marlin’s information had left him feeling nauseous with nerves. For the first time the true extent of what they were facing here had become clear to him. And they were meant to stop that horror from happening? That was bordering on impossible, surely.

But here they were, trying to prevent it anyway. Right after the meeting with Marlin Ros had dropped them off at the surveillance van, announcing that they were going to watch Nadif for the day. But Nadif had yet to make an appearance.

‘So, when he comes out, what are we going to do?’ he asked, changing the subject.

Lucas smirked. Doubtlessly he knew exactly what Merlin was playing at. The warlock had thought it would be nice to be around people not too thick to read subtle signs, but as it was, it was getting a bit annoying.

‘You can go with Jo, following him,’ the senior officer said. ‘You could pose as a couple. It would be quite convincing.’

Jo’s cheeks coloured bright crimson, no doubt resembling the colour of his own face at that moment.

‘Okay,’ he said, trying to think of yet another subject to discuss. The atmosphere in the van had become incredibly awkward only seconds after Lucas’s playful comment. ‘So, Nadif’s definitely the man we’re looking for?’ he checked.

‘Well, he isn’t an innocent,’ Jo offered. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’ve read his file.’

Merlin felt he had to explain himself. ‘It’s just… well, Marlin was hiding something,’ he pointed out. ‘He could very well have been lying.’

He had a lot of experiences with untruthful people and he had trusted them just one time too many. He had learned being careful the hard way. So no matter what Ros said about multitasking being overrated, something kept gnawing away at him, urging him to do something with what Arthur would call his funny feeling. Those funny feelings tended to be right after all. Marlin’s discomfort at the meeting could indeed have something to do with the Pakistani being afraid of getting caught talking to MI-5. That might be a part of it, but it most certainly wasn’t all of it.

Lucas didn’t avert his eyes from the screen as he replied. ‘I suggest you have that conversation with Ros,’ he said. ‘As it happens, I do value my life.’ And when he saw Merlin’s disbelieving face, he added: ‘Nadif is definitely up to something, Merlin. We heard his name from Samir first before Marlin came into the picture. You remember Samir, the man we were chasing when we first ran into you?’

Merlin remembered that all too well. Part of him wished that they had never discovered that magical portal in the woods and the places it led to. He couldn’t escape the notion that they were now into all this mess up to their necks and he wasn’t sure he liked that feeling. It was his duty to protect Camelot, not London. _But by helping London, you’ll get the help for Camelot_ , he reminded himself.

‘Speaking of the devil,’ Jo remarked, pointing at the screen that showed them Nadif’s front door. Merlin had seen the man’s face in a photograph, but seeing him for real, or as real as that screen was anyway, somehow made it all more real to him.

So now he studied the leader of the terror cell closely. He was average height, average build and to be quite honest, not at all dangerous looking. Dressed in his suit and tie there was nothing to suggest that he had more dangerous plans than just going into work, like every other morning.

Lucas bended over as well. ‘Hello, Nadif,’ he muttered, smiling faintly, a smile of the hunter directed at his prey. His entire attitude betrayed that he absolutely loathed him.

Jo took a closer look as well, frowning. ‘How’s Ben?’ she asked. ‘Does he know the danger he’s in?’

Merlin needed a second to remember Ben was the name of the officer pretending to be one of Nadif’s followers. Either Malcolm or Connie must have mentioned it last night.

‘We learn by doing,’ Lucas replied.

There was probably no greater truth in the world, Merlin suspected. At least that was how he had learned to do his job of protecting Arthur from all sorts of danger. In all these centuries time, that was one thing that had obviously not changed.

‘What’s he doing as a job, again?’ Merlin asked, watching how Nadif dug up his mobile phone from one of his pockets and started texting. At least he thought that was what they called it. Ugh, there was so much information that it was almost impossible to keep up with everything.

‘IT-manager,’ Lucas answered.

He thought hard for a few seconds. ‘Something with computers, right?’

Lucas gave him a reassuring smile. ‘Something like that. It’s a good cover, too. He’s certainly able to get that waterfall flowing.’

Right, the noise on the internet, Merlin remembered. He wished he could understand it a bit better than he did, but he had to accept that this probably was not going to happen anytime soon. He had better stay on his job for the day.

Lucas had apparently been thinking the same thing. ‘Right, go, you’re away,’ he said.

Merlin quickly downed the last remnants of his coffee and got up. He was actually glad to be able to get out of this place. They were with the three of them and this van wasn’t particularly big, so after almost an hour of waiting things started to feel rather cramped.

Jo, however, seemed to hesitate.

Lucas smiled reassuringly at her as well. ‘Don’t worry,’ he told her. ‘I’ll keep an eye on him.’ And when she still made no attempt to get out, he added: ‘Ben’s a natural. He’s going to be fine.’

She smiled back. ‘Thanks.’

They got out of the van and started to walk after Nadif slowly. They didn’t want him to know he was being watched, so they maintained a slow pace, just enough to keep him in their sights.

Jo’s eyes never left her suspect’s back, but she seemed distracted. ‘You’re worried about Ben?’ he inquired.

She grinned sheepishly and then hooked her arm through his. Upon seeing his shocked face, she explained: ‘We’re supposed to behave as a couple, remember? Let’s make it convincing.’

Merlin nodded. Right, he almost forgot. ‘So, you’re worried about Ben?’ he repeated his earlier question.

She shrugged. ‘A bit, I guess. It was his friendship with me that brought him into the Service in the first place, so I suppose I feel responsible for him. It’s his first undercover operation, too, and this is a dangerous man we’re dealing with.’ They were more or less alone, so they could talk openly here. Nadif was out of earshot and they weren’t near the centre of the city yet, which meant that there weren’t that many other people around. ‘I think I’m just being protective, like you are with Arthur.’

That last sentence caught him unawares. ‘You noticed that?’

That earned him a small smile. ‘Well, yes. It was a bit hard to miss, really. You’re keeping him safe, don’t you?’

He snorted. ‘No one has ever noticed that before.’

‘I’m a spook,’ Jo reminded him. ‘If I hadn’t noticed, it would probably be best if they sacked me.’

Merlin glanced at Nadif, but he was too preoccupied by his mobile phone to pay any attention to them, or anything else going on around him. He had already only just avoided getting hit by a car, and that was more thanks to the driver’s reflexes than Nadif’s.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘It’s just that I’ve become so used to people not noticing, overlooking me just because I’m a servant…’

She studied him closely. ‘That’s just weird,’ she told him.

‘What is?’

Jo was clearly thinking how she could phrase this best. ‘Well, in the legend as we know it here, you’re an old man, kind of Arthur’s right-hand man. I think we all figured you had to be this old, powerful warlock, not just an ordinary man.’

Merlin sniggered. ‘Believe me, Jo, I’m not ordinary.’

Her cheeks coloured bright red again. ‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s just, well, you don’t look or act as we had expected.’ Her eyes were again locked on Nadif’s back. It didn’t take a fully trained spy to realise she felt very embarrassed right now. Her behaviour reminded him of Gwen’s when he had only just arrived in Camelot.

‘So, I’m supposed to be old?’ he inquired.

‘Forget that,’ she mumbled. ‘Legend was obviously wrong.’

 _Not entirely_. He wondered whether he should tell her about his regular disguise as Dragoon the Great. It could be wise to keep that a secret for now, but in the end Jo’s discomfort won out. ‘I tend to disguise myself as an old man,’ he explained. ‘With an ageing spell,’ he added when she gave him a look that told him she did not understand what he meant. ‘Even Arthur doesn’t know that, to tell you the truth.’

Now she was curious. ‘Yet you’re telling me. I’m practically a stranger.’

It was his turn to shrug. ‘Well, we’re on the same team now, aren’t we? I thought you said it wasn’t necessary to keep secrets. Don’t tell Arthur, though.’

That contradiction made her laugh. ‘Sure,’ she promised. ‘I’ll keep this record away from him.’

That startled him. ‘Wait, we’re recorded?’

He heard Lucas’s low chuckle coming from the piece of technology that had been stuffed in his ear. ‘Oops, caught me. Don’t worry, though, I won’t tell him.’

‘Thanks, Lucas,’ he said, relieved.

He actually liked the senior officer. He sounded like a good fellow and a good colleague. Anyway, he rather dealt with him than with Ros. He knew he had nothing to fear from her anymore, but he still kept his distance. The Section Chief had something that made her appear unapproachable, untouchable even. Maybe it was because of the loss of the man they called Adam Carter. It was a long shot, but people had done stranger things because of grief. He only had to remember Morgana’s reaction to Morgause’s demise to know exactly how strange.

‘You’re welcome,’ the other man told him. ‘Can I get a status update on our target in return?’

‘Target’s entering the building,’ Jo reported. ‘Breaking off surveillance, Control.’

Oops, he had completely forgotten to use the codes Ros had told him to use. He had no doubt he would be reprimanded for it later. Ros didn’t strike him as the type to let such things go past unanswered.

He made to follow Nadif into the building, but Jo’s pulling at his arm stopped him.

‘We can’t go in there,’ she warned him. ‘That’s where he works.’

‘We’re not allowed to go in after him?’ he checked.

She shook her head, directing them to a small café on the other side of the street instead. ‘We don’t belong there. It would be suspicious. Nadif has no known associates at work. We don’t need to monitor him in there. All we have to do is to keep a close eye on that entrance to see if there are any suspicious individuals going in. We might as well do that from a comfortable place. And it’s the natural thing to do.’

Merlin frowned. ‘Natural?’

‘We’re a couple, remember? We’ve got to make it convincing.’

Right, he had forgotten.

Lucas laughed in his ear again. ‘I think the two of you can handle this without any supervision, don’t you think?’ he asked. Judging by the tone in his voice he was very much enjoying himself. ‘Put on a good show, will you?’

‘Where are you going then?’ Jo demanded.

‘Well, it seems I have a Holy Warrior to meet.’ His tone became a bit more serious. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after him.’

Jo smiled, although Lucas couldn’t see that of course. ‘Thanks.’

The earpiece went dead and they crossed the street. ‘What was that all about?’ Merlin asked.

‘He’s going to meet with Ben,’ Jo explained. ‘Hear if there’s anything interesting happening, make sure he’s still safe.’

The warlock frowned. ‘You didn’t want to do that yourself?’

‘I’m needed here,’ she pointed out. ‘And that’s what the team is for. Everyone does something.’

Merlin smiled sheepishly. He tended to forget that while he was here he was working with a team. Maybe that was because he was so used to working alone. He had never had anyone who helped him before. _But you’re not on your own anymore_ , he reminded himself. The thought brought a smile to his face. Perhaps it had been a good idea to work with Section D after all.

 

***

 

Arthur would probably never admit it when called on, but he was glad to be back in Thames House. The meeting with Britain’s Home Secretary had left him with a lot of anger and he had come very close to losing control and venting it all in the man’s arrogant face. What a pathetic excuse for a leader that was! But apparently that was the way things were around here and since he was in no position to change that, he might as well accept it. He wasn’t the king in this place. He wasn’t anything in this place. No, that wasn’t true. Here he was Aidan Parker, Senior Case Officer and Middle Eastern expert. Great.

The Grid was rather empty when they returned. Merlin, Lucas and Jo were what these people called out in the field to keep an eye on Nadif. Arthur didn’t really know what to do, so he settled for taking a chair and pulling it over to Malcolm’s desk. In some ways the elderly man reminded him of Gaius. That familiarity made it easier to keep a conversation going.

‘And how was meeting the Home Secretary?’ Connie asked as he dragged the chair across the room.

He snorted in reply.

‘Oh, that bad?’ Connie seemed to be enjoying herself. ‘Well, rather Harry than me. Politicians…’ She shuddered.

‘Thanks so very much, Connie,’ he shot back.

‘I said politicians, not kings,’ she clarified with as much dignity as she could muster, before disappearing behind the screen of her computer.

‘And those aren’t the same thing?’ he asked.

Connie didn’t respond and Arthur decided not to push the matter. Given his recent experience with the Home Secretary he wasn’t even sure he could blame her for feeling as she did. If one thing, Nicholas Blake was an annoying man who was entirely too concerned with his own image. That must be a future thing. As far as Arthur knew his father had never cared much about his image, and neither did Arthur.

Malcolm’s screen was filled with all kinds of numbers and letters, none of which made any sense to the king of Camelot. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Monitoring the internet chatter,’ he explained without averting his eyes from the screen.

‘Monitoring?’ Arthur repeated, not sure what it was supposed to mean.

‘Keeping an eye on,’ Malcolm offered. ‘If Marlin is right, we should start to see a lot of threats on the net soon enough.’

Arthur gave up. He had no idea what the other man was talking about. He vaguely knew what internet was, because Connie had explained it to him last night, but the details of it continued to elude him. Oh, why did he even care? It wasn’t as if he was going to stay in this time and place long enough to need any of it. A few days at most and then he would be back in Camelot, _with_ help to find the traitor.

‘I’m going to get myself another coffee,’ he announced. He had been meaning to call Merlin to get him another cup, only realising just in time that his servant wasn’t available at the moment.

And even if he was, it would be seen as strange here. He had learned that after he had ordered Merlin to get him something to eat a few hours ago. People had actually stopped and stared at him as if he had lost his mind. It turned out that people here didn’t have servants. They did everything themselves. And there was no way these people allowed him to use Merlin to get him something to drink. Merlin himself had to try his hardest to bite back his laughter and Arthur had felt his face colour the brightest red at the humiliation. Oh, how he wished he was back in Camelot.

Malcolm merely nodded in reply, still too preoccupied with his computer.

Arthur strolled over the Grid towards the coffee machine, the only piece of technology he actually understood. Connie had told him that there was something in coffee that helped keeping one awake. That might be more than necessary. It was only midday and he had missed a night of sleep. In a few hours’ time the fatigue would start kicking in and it didn’t look like he was going to bed anytime soon.

He decided to be nice and brought an extra cup for Malcolm. If they were going to work together, he might as well make sure they got along well. There was no doubt in his mind that he could not boss these people around, not even once they were back in Camelot. He would have to treat them as if they were nobles, even when they so clearly weren’t.

He was halfway on his way back when Malcolm almost literally shot up. ‘This is it!’ he exclaimed in an alarmed voice over the frantic beeps his computer was suddenly making. ‘Ros!’

The Section Chief seemed to come from nowhere, striding over to his desk. Arthur, feeling that there really was something happening, increased his pace as well, dumping the coffee on the nearest desk. Something told him there wouldn’t be time for that.

‘What is it, Malcolm?’ Ros demanded. She radiated tension with every fibre of her being.

Somehow that caused a shiver to go down Arthur’s spine. Ros didn’t strike him as the type that scared easily. She wasn’t exactly scared now, but she was nervous and uneasy to say at the very least. For something to make that happen, it had to be bad, very bad. Noise, dry run, boom. Was this the first?

‘Internet chatter,’ he replied curtly. ‘It’s been climbing through the roof.’

Arthur glanced at the screen and saw an awful lot of words flash across it. The computer’s bleeps were giving him a headache already. Maybe he should have taken the idea of noise literally.

‘By how much?’ Ros urged. Behind her, Harry had come in as well. The head of the section didn’t say anything, but the expression on his face was quite enough. Connie slipped in after him, looking shocked, frightened even. Could it really be that bad?

‘Four thousand percent,’ Malcolm reported, still staring at the screen in what appeared to be disbelief.

‘It’s the waterfall,’ Ros stated, turning back to look at Harry.

‘They’re going crazy on the net.’ Malcolm sounded like he was somewhat amazed by it. ‘All kinds of rumours, threats, semi-coded stuff…’

‘They’re starting,’ Ros understood. ‘They’re getting ready to go. Red flash Lucas,’ she ordered. ‘Get Jo and Merlin back on the Grid.’

‘They’re watching Nadif,’ Connie pointed out.

‘Then get a bloody replacement out there!’ the Section Chief exploded. ‘Just get them back here as soon as humanly possible.’

Connie gave her an indignant look, and then marched over to her own desk again, muttering under her breath.

‘Is this bad?’ Arthur asked. Everyone here seemed to have gotten a full-blown panic attack as soon as Malcolm had alerted them to what was going on. So yes, boom was probably not a good thing, a very dangerous thing even, but these people were supposed to be used to it, right?

The question had been intended for Malcolm, but it was Ros that answered. ‘You were briefed on Nadif, weren’t you?’

He nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘How much?’

‘That he is the leader of the terror cell that’s going to detonate a bomb in London,’ he repeated Connie’s explanation, pleased to find he had remembered it, even the words that didn’t exist yet in Camelot.

Ros snorted. ‘You don’t have a clue, do you?’ she asked. Arthur assumed it was a rhetorical question, so he didn’t bother with an answer. ‘Remind me to put together a summary of Nadif’s activities before the meeting.’

‘So, is it really that bad?’ Arthur repeated his earlier question.

‘Yes,’ Malcolm replied.

‘And if this is the signal for the dry run, I’d say we’re less than a week away from their intended spectacular,’ Ros finished, leaning over Malcolm’s shoulder to get a better view. ‘Come on, then,’ she muttered. ‘Show us where you will hurt us.’

Arthur watched with them as the computers kept throwing words, possible targets, at them. There were so many. How were they to know what was real and what was not? And for the first time since Arthur Pendragon had set foot in twenty-first century Britain he truly understood how dangerous it was right now. He suddenly found himself wondering why that hunt yesterday had sounded like a good idea.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 

It was nearly two o’clock when Merlin and Jo finally stepped through the pods. Their replacement had ended up in a traffic jam caused by an accident. It had taken them nearly two hours to get back to Thames House. Ros understood why they couldn’t leave their spot until someone else had taken over for them. The last thing they wanted was for Nadif to disappear. But heaven knew she wanted someone to blame for this mess.

Lucas was already in the meeting room when she entered, holding his cup of coffee like it was some kind of lifeline. Come to think of it, he looked exhausted. For someone who claimed he could do without a few nights of sleep, he looked positively dead on his feet.

‘Don’t fall asleep during the meeting,’ she quipped.

‘I won’t.’ He didn’t even look up from the papers he was studying.

She snorted. ‘I thought you said you could handle one night.’

‘I can,’ he muttered, barely audible. ‘Just not every night.’

She didn’t think she was supposed to hear that, so she ignored it. That was the most sensible thing to do anyway. Ros Myers didn’t do emotional. ‘Anything interesting in there?’

He shook his head. ‘Nadif’s trying to be as clean as he possibly can be, but Ben told me that he has ordered him and this other guy he’s staying with, Jawad, to call in sick tomorrow.’

A shiver went down her spine. Would it really be that soon? ‘You think it’s the dry run?’ she asked. She certainly thought so. But it was too soon. The waterfall only started today. But then, Marlin hadn’t exactly given them a time scheme to work with. Maybe he didn’t have any. But somewhere deep down she had assumed they would have a little more time to prepare. _What for?_ she asked herself sharply. _Get a grip, Myers. You’ve done everything you can. Do more and you won’t have any time left to eat and sleep._

Lucas shrugged. ‘Possibly.’ He didn’t look half as concerned as she felt. Sometimes that easy-going attitude of his was really getting at her nerves, even though he was probably right to behave as he did. When it came to it, he was as professional and devoted as she was. ‘Ben says usually Nadif wants them to take a day off, it means a lecture on jihad.’

She snorted. ‘Are you sure you don’t mean a lesson on the ten best ways to detonate a bomb?’

He gave her a lopsided grin. ‘Same thing, isn’t it?’

The corners of her mouth curled up without her giving them permission to do so. What was that about him that made her want to smile back despite her mood? _You’re going soft, Myers_.

The arrival of the rest of the team saved her from having to give a response. She got up and pointed the remote at the screen while the rest of the team took their seats. She noted with interest that Arthur had become somewhat jumpy since he had realised what exactly it was what they were up against. Merlin on the other hand behaved almost as if he had been doing this for years, joking with Jo whilst glancing over some reports. The only thing that gave him away was the bewildering face he made as his mobile phone bleeped. Not _that_ well-adjusted yet.

‘So, what do we have?’ Harry began, slipping into commander mode almost immediately.

‘Trouble,’ Ros replied curtly. And an awful, potentially bloody, lot of it too. She pointed the remote at the screen again. She didn’t watch as it displayed the horrors Nadif Abdul Rashid had managed to cause in his life. ‘Thirty dead in Turkey, 2004,’ she commented. ‘Two hundred in Somalia, 2007, and dozens more dead or maimed by Nadif.’ And only God knows how many more there were. Their big fish may not look like much of a danger, but he was. She skipped to a picture, showing him in all his glory, looking all too pleased with himself. ‘You all know we went to meet Marlin this morning. He is deep inside Pakistani intelligence and he said Nadif’s planning something nasty. I think he knows a little bit about that.’ As far as she knew nasty was the Middle Eastern speciality. They didn’t do anything else.

Arthur was unable to keep quiet any longer. ‘One man did all of that?’ There was definitely disbelief in his voice.

‘Welcome to the future,’ Harry said sarcastically.

‘I’m afraid it turns out to be somewhat of a disappointment,’ Connie remarked.

The expression on Arthur’s face told Ros that he wholeheartedly agreed with the intelligence analyst on this one. How strange, they had taken quite a liking to each other. Well, not that strange maybe, with Connie playing Arthur’s personal guide to the twenty-first century.

Merlin frowned. ‘The people,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Don’t they know? The danger they’re in, I mean.’

Lucas snorted. ‘They have gotten worked up about stuff like this before, but not anymore. They’ve seen too much to bring themselves to do that again. The British public is practically sleepwalking through all this. No one cares anymore and Iraq’s just background noise.’

‘Another region where we’ve “not been nice”,’ Ros explained with half a smile as Merlin and Arthur both gave her colleague a confused look.

‘Right,’ Lucas nodded. ‘It’s the odd failed bombing here, the odd round-up there, Harry in Afghanistan…’

Two heads swivelled in Harry’s direction, clearly even more confused than seconds before. Lucas had been so busy ranting about the famous British ignorance that he had forgotten that there were actually people in the room who didn’t understand everything.

‘Prince Harry,’ Jo clarified quickly.

‘Yes,’ the Harry in the room said. Ros noticed he had been a little confused for a second as well. He was also trying his hardest not to show it.

‘So, the people, they just don’t care?’ Merlin asked, still in that same disbelieving voice.

‘The British people, no, they don’t,’ Ros stated. Most of them didn’t anyway. ‘Al-Qaeda, however, does.’

Lucas snorted. ‘Well, that’s just bloody brilliant of them. Just when we’re sliding back into complacency…’

‘… They step up their game,’ Ros finished. Lucas was right. Al-Qaeda had done a good job planning their next big attack here. People didn’t even consider a terrorist attack on British soil a realistic option anymore. That had been reduced to the realm of film scripts and paranoid conspiracy believers. No one suspected anything anymore, except MI-5. ‘Noise, dry run…’

‘Boom,’ Lucas helpfully concluded. Ros noted how they started sounding like Donald Duck’s nephews, finishing each other’s sentences like that.

She pointed the remote at the screen again, now showing the pictures of their wannabe bombers. ‘Now, the spike in the intercepts means that Marlin’s information was correct.’

‘That means this was the noise?’ Merlin checked. ‘That’s very soon.’

‘Your observational skills never cease to amaze me, Merlin,’ Arthur commented in a mocking voice.

At least three people in the room had opened their mouths to tell Arthur off, but Merlin beat them there. He offered the legendary king a big smile. ‘That’s because I’m not a dollophead like you.’

Ros closed her mouth again, as did Jo and Harry. She was surprised at herself. Had she really just been about to stand up for Merlin? Good heavens, she _must_ be going soft.

Arthur let out a bark of laughter. ‘Can’t you ever think of something a little more original?’

The warlock shrugged. ‘Clotpole.’

Lucas frowned. ‘Clotpole?’ he mouthed at her.

She gave him a look that told him she didn’t know the word either. ‘Well, gentlemen, playtime’s over,’ she said briskly, even though she was secretly grateful for their banter. It eased the tension a bit. That had to be worth something. She beckoned at the screen. ‘These are the four young men that are under Nadif’s command,’ she explained, mostly for Arthur and Merlin’s benefit. The rest of them had been briefed on them weeks ago. ‘One of them is in fact one of ours, Ben Kaplan.’ She pointed out his picture. ‘He’s been working undercover for the last few weeks. He thinks something’s bound to happen soon.’

‘Nadif’s told them to take the day off work tomorrow,’ Lucas enlightened the rest of the group.

Judging by the faces of her team everyone knew what that meant. Even their ancient additions had stopped smiling. Ros spotted determination in both their eyes. For one reason or another they were actually taking this seriously. They might even care about what happened here, although she could not for the life of her tell why.

Connie broke the silence in the end. ‘Shouldn’t the terror threat go to critical?’ she asked.

 _Yes_ , Ros thought.

‘Probably,’ Harry admitted. ‘But we’ll leave it where it is for now. Give the Home Secretary a bit of breathing space. He’s normally a good friend to us.’

‘Like the time he ordered our assassination, you mean?’ Jo muttered in a bitter voice. It was barely audible, yet everyone looked at her: Merlin and Arthur in shock, Lucas confused and the rest of them knowing, even Harry. Ros still didn’t know the details of this episode in the story of Section D. She had been in exile when that particular incident had occurred. What she had found out was that Nicholas Blake had ordered Section D to be murdered to secure a deal with Iran. Their deaths should be the price for peace. Well, if anything told her never to trust that man, this certainly was.

Harry was the only one who remained visibly unmoved. ‘Like I said, he’s _normally_ a good friend to us.’

But Arthur wasn’t going to let this one go in a hurry. ‘Your own leader ordered your execution?!’ he bellowed on top of his lungs. ‘He should have protected you, at any cost.’

Connie gave him a sympathetic look. ‘I think you’ll find politics are a little more complicated these days, young man.’

 _Perhaps_. Ros privately agreed with Arthur, though. Protecting people should be Blake’s first priority. Maybe Arthur’s views on leadership weren’t as outdated as she had initially thought. Good grief, she found herself agreeing with him a lot this day. Maybe there was a good reason why history had remembered him after all.

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘And our Home Secretary’s state might go to critical if we up the threat level,’ she remarked. _If only_. ‘But at least Al-Qaeda’s done us the favour of showing us exactly what they’re going to do this time before they blow some hundreds of people to kingdom come.’ She plastered a convincing smile on her face. And she was pleased that there was a dry run. Just a shame not all the terrorists did it.

‘And if that works, they’ll go for the real thing, right?’ Jo checked.

‘Yes,’ Lucas confirmed. ‘But with a different team, according to Marlin.’

‘Why?’ she asked, not understanding.

‘Because they don’t want to risk another debacle,’ he explained.

Yes, they had quite enough of those already, Ros thought, remembering Lucas’s earlier remark about the odd failed bombings.

‘This time they’re going to bring in some real professionals,’ the Senior Case Officer finished.

 _God help us_ , she thought wryly. _They were bad enough when they were just bloody amateurs_.

‘Ben’s team are not the front runners,’ Harry said. ‘Who cares if they’re picked up?’

Well, it wouldn’t be Nadif, that much was certain. The way he acted made it perfectly clear that he didn’t care about lives, not even those of his own followers.

‘Ben knows that, of course,’ Lucas put in. ‘The rest of them still believe they’re holy warriors and not just a bunch of cheap canaries.’

Connie snorted. ‘Any sane person would of course be grateful for that fact.’

Unfortunately Al-Qaeda’s employees were seldom sane.

‘So, we watch and we go after the second cell?’ Jo summarised. ‘And we get our hands on some of their big guys?’

‘Makes sense,’ Merlin muttered. He had been remarkably quiet during the meeting.

‘But they must not get the slightest idea that we’re watching,’ Harry emphasised. Or else Nadif would either disappear or set off the bombs much earlier, with all kinds of lethal consequences. He didn’t say it, but then, he didn’t need to. They all knew what was at stake here. The silence that had taken over the conference room was proof enough of that.

It was Harry that broke the silence in the end. ‘And on that happy note, I’m sending you all home for the rest of the day.’

Ros’s head swivelled in his direction immediately. ‘ _What_?!’ she asked sharply.

‘There’s nothing more any of you can do for the day and the dry run is not until tomorrow.’ The head of Section D sounded wholly unconcerned. Had she not known better, she might have said he underestimated who they were dealing with.

‘Harry…’ she began to protest.

‘That is non-negotiable, Rosalind,’ he said in his sternest voice. ‘You all need a clear head in the morning. Jo, I believe you have a spare room?’

‘Yes, Harry,’ she nodded.

‘Then make sure Merlin makes good use of it,’ Harry ordered. ‘Lucas, you make sure Arthur knows where to find the spare room in your flat. I want all of you back on the Grid bright and early tomorrow, so if any of you is as much as a second late, you’ll be serving tea for the rest of your working life. Do I make myself clear?’

Lucas grinned. ‘First a decade and now the rest of our lives,’ he commented. ‘It does keep getting more.’

Harry’s stern look wiped the smile off his face.

‘Sorry, Harry,’ he muttered, not really sounding sorry at all.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Now, shoo everyone. Go home and get some rest.’

The team got up and began to leave. Ros wondered if she could get away with just working inconspicuously at her desk. She was sure there were things that she needed to be doing before the morning.

Unfortunately, Harry was on to her. ‘That goes for you too, Rosalind,’ he told her, not unfriendly. ‘Get a break.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Or do I need to threaten you with disciplinary measures first?’

She snorted and got up. ‘Till tomorrow then, Harry.’ After all, it could be worse. It could have been her that had been chosen to babysit the new additions to the team.

 

***

 

Merlin curled himself up on Jo’s sofa, watching as the young spook entered the room again, carrying two glasses of red wine. He reflected on how on earth it was possible to go from a cell to this cosy place in a day’s time. But then, last night he had wondered how he had gotten from Camelot to those cells in exactly the same amount of time. Maybe this was just the way his life went. He had long ago accepted his life was never going to be ordinary, not while he had Arthur to protect.

It didn’t feel good to be so far away from him now. This city was a dangerous place. There were so many things that could happen to him and Merlin wasn’t there to stop it from happening. But the anxiety wasn’t as bad as it could have been, he thought. Lucas looked like a good fellow, more than capable of keeping Arthur alive till the morning. And of course there were no magical dangers here he had to worry about. Had there been, he would never have let the king go to Lucas’s house alone.

‘Thank you,’ he said when Jo handed him his glass.

‘You’re welcome,’ she smiled. She took the large and luxury chair in the room, folding her legs underneath her, pointing the remote control at her television.

The screen flared to life, revealing a woman behind a desk, telling them about a political crisis in some country he had never heard of before.

‘Do you mind?’ his companion asked.

‘What, the television?’ he asked.

She nodded. ‘I tend to put it on as soon as I get home, to watch the news. Force of habit, I’m afraid.’

‘No, not at all.’ Truth be told, the technology of this time fascinated him. ‘What is it we’re watching?’

She smiled. ‘The news. That’s basically telling us all the important things that happen all around the world.’

‘ _All_ around the world?’ he echoed. ‘That crisis, when did that happen?’ he asked, referring to the topic that was being discussed on television at the moment.

‘Today,’ she replied. ‘Better means of communication here, you see?’

He kept forgetting about that. In Camelot you could often find yourself waiting weeks for important news and when you got it, it was already outdated and irrelevant. How different were things here.

The woman finished her report of the crisis and moved on to the next topic. ‘And today the Home Secretary has announced a proposal for a National Day. It is believed that this proposal is a reaction to the current high threat level.’

The screen now showed yet another man dressed in suit and tie, leaning over some kind of desk. ‘I propose the start debate on a National Day, which celebrates being British,’ he said. The people that were visible behind him cheered a mild and uncommitted support. Merlin allowed himself to imagine the council reacting like that to Arthur’s ideas and that resulted in a barely bitten back snort of laughter.

Jo didn’t notice. She was looking intently at the screen where the Home Secretary went on about his idea. ‘To celebrate the things that bring us together as a nation. A nation with many differences, but with shared core values: a belief in democracy, in justice and in human rights.’ Each pause was met with more of the same cheering. Apparently that was the habit here, but Merlin found it altogether weird.

Jo snorted and turned the television off. ‘He should be warning the public,’ she said bitterly. ‘Not trying to distract them by discussing a National Day which we all know won’t happen anyway.’

He frowned. ‘How are you so sure?’

She snorted. ‘That’s how it always goes. Politics in the twenty-first century.’ The last sentence was spoken as if it was some kind of explanation. Maybe it was.

‘You don’t like him, do you? The Home Secretary?’ he clarified.

She shook her head. ‘Not after last year anyway.’

He remembered her bitter remark about the man ordering the execution of the entire Section he was now working with and felt stupid for not remembering faster. ‘Why did he want you dead anyway?’ he asked.

She snorted. ‘It was a deal with a country we might have been at war with otherwise. We wanted peace, but we knew too much about some of their secrets. The Iranians didn’t want to take the risks of those secrets ever getting out, so we had to go.’ It didn’t escape Merlin’s notice how pale she had become. Even though her reply had only created more questions, he decided to let it go.

‘Sorry,’ he said.

She smiled. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’m fine,’ she assured him, sipping her wine. ‘And at least I know he won’t do it again, not if he values his life. Harry managed to threaten him rather effectively.’

Merlin didn’t doubt that for even a second. The head of Section D was a man who did as he promised, that much had become clear. He was a leader through and through, absolutely loyal to his team, determined to do whatever it took to do his job and keep them safe. In that respect he reminded him strongly of Arthur, or the man and king he was becoming.

‘Yes, I can see that,’ Merlin replied. ‘What’s going to happen tomorrow?’ he then asked, switching to another subject.

‘We’ll be following one of Ben’s team, like we did Nadif today,’ Jo explained. ‘That is, if tomorrow really is the dry run. And we’ll only need to watch and report. Not a big deal.’ For someone who said it wasn’t a big deal, she seemed awfully nervous.

‘Are you worried about it?’ he inquired.

She shook her head. ‘Not really. It’s just that it’s the first time I’m really back in the field without a colleague since I was abducted.’ She averted his eyes, looking intently at her wine.

‘Without a colleague?’ he repeated, feigning shock in an attempt to lighten her mood. ‘What am I then?’

It worked. She cracked a smile. ‘You’re right. And I’m overreacting anyway.’ Merlin was about to protest that claim, but she cut him off. ‘Well, it’s still kind of early and I want to bet that you have never seen a movie before.’

Her distraction worked perfectly. ‘A what?’

The smile became a wide grin. ‘Like I said. Shall we try one?’

‘Ehm… fine?’ His face probably made it perfectly clear he had no idea what she was talking about.

The worry disappeared out of her eyes altogether as she laughed. ‘You’ll like it,’ she promised.

And she made good on it. They sat back and relaxed as they watched the adventures of a small creature called a hobbit with an important ring that he had to bring to some kind of evil land on her television screen. It was like reading a book, Merlin pondered, only now didn’t he see it in words, but playing out before his eyes. This was one of those inventions he might get used to. And besides, he couldn’t remember the last time when he had spent the evening relaxing. Come to think of it, he wasn’t even sure if he had ever done it.

At the end of the movie Merlin’s eyelids started to droop and he couldn’t summon up the energy to open them again. He promised himself to sit like that for a few minutes and then ask Jo if it was okay for him to go to bed.

He forced his eyes open again when a sound, no, a tune, penetrated the suddenly quiet room. To his surprise it was almost dark in the room. Only the light beside the television was still burning. His gaze focused on Jo. She had curled herself up in the chair, a blanket tucked in around her. She was still asleep and didn’t look like the sound was waking her up.

The object producing the noise, Jo’s mobile phone, was lying on the coffee table. Merlin hesitated for a moment, but then shed the blanket that had somehow ended up covering him and grabbed the device. Fortunately Connie had lectured him on the use on these things, so he found it not too difficult to find the right button and push it.

‘Hello?’ he said hesitantly as no one on the other end spoke.

‘Jo?’ a voice, belonging to Ros Myers, asked.

‘No, it’s Merlin,’ he replied.

Now he had managed to confuse her. ‘What are you doing with her phone?’ she demanded.

‘Well, she’s still asleep and I didn’t want this to wake her, so…’

He realised too late that Ros interpreted this quite differently than he had meant it. ‘Oh,’ she said, her voice betraying her surprise. ‘Well, it’s none of my business,’ she continued briskly.

‘But…’ he started to protest. It somehow seemed important that he made her understand that it wasn’t what she thought this was.

She cut him off. ‘It isn’t any of my bloody business,’ she repeated forcefully. ‘You just wake up your princess charming and then get yourselves down here. Lucas has spoken to Ben. The dry run’s going to start in an hour.’

He had been about to protest again, but her last words cut that short. The knots in his stomach, that had been untying themselves gradually since arriving at Jo’s house last night came back with a vengeance. This was it: the second step on the road to boom. And it was up to them to stop it. And he wasn’t a fool. He knew Harry Pearce expected a lot of him and his magic. The pressure was suffocating, because if he messed this up, chances were he wouldn’t get the help for Camelot, to unmask Agravaine. And they needed the help.

‘We’ll be there,’ he promised, trying to keep both his hands and voice from trembling.

‘You’d better,’ Ros threatened before hanging up.

Merlin stared at the device for half a second and then put it down. It would seem he didn’t have the time to sit around and do nothing (did he ever?). There was yet another kingdom in need of saving.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur tries his hand at spying activities as well and gets into an argument with the Section Chief.

**Chapter 13**

 

Arthur wasn’t sure what to think about Lucas’s flat. He supposed one could call it modest, impersonal even. On the Grid Arthur had seen desks that had been practically covered in photographs and personal items. There were almost none in this place, no photographs and no personal items. There was a huge bookcase in the living room, filled with books. Most of them he could read, but there were also several titles he could not for the life of him understand. That was as personal as Lucas got apparently.

Dinner was an awkward affair. Lucas ordered something he called takeaway with his phone and when the food was delivered they ate it in silence, after which Lucas announced that he was exhausted. That left Arthur with little choice, so he retired to the spare room.

He spent a restless night, tossing and turning, listening to the sounds in the house. All of those were alien to him. He had no idea if what he heard was normal or a thief trying to break in and murder them both in their sleep. He knew Lucas had told him this was impossible because he had something called a security system, whatever that was supposed to be. All Arthur knew was that there wasn’t a single guard in sight. As it was, he seriously doubted that they still existed around here at all.

He frowned as he realised he was the only one who was experiencing such trouble in adapting to this place. When he had last seen Merlin, his servant had been acting like he belonged here; chatting with Jo whilst doing something with the phone he was given. Had he not known any better he would have said Merlin was from here. And that annoyed him. Arthur still hadn’t been able to work out how to get his phone to function and he still jumped every time something weird happened, whilst his servant just shrugged it off as if it were normal.

He turned on his back and watched the ceiling, waiting for morning to come. Time passed extremely slowly and a little voice in the back of his head told him he should really try and get some sleep, but he just couldn’t bring himself to relax. So he would just lie here and wait, he decided. He could sleep once they were back in Camelot.

Halfway through the night he got an extra reason not to sleep. He had finally managed to relax a little and doze off somewhat when he was snapped back into full consciousness by screaming, Lucas’s screaming.

Arthur didn’t think. It was instinct. He grabbed his sword, which he had fortunately been allowed to keep close, and made a run for Lucas’s bedroom, throwing open the door, not caring about the noise he made. He knew it! There had been a break in and Lucas was in danger. It was his duty as king to help him.

So, when he stood in the room, looking frantically around him searching for the intruder, he suddenly felt rather stupid. The dark-haired spy was lying in his bed, tossing and turning not unlike Arthur had done, and screaming like someone was torturing him. _He’s having a nightmare._

Other people might have wakened Lucas, but Arthur didn’t have that intention. It would be unbelievably awkward for the both of them, not to mention Lucas’s reaction at seeing Arthur’s sword so close to his person. Besides, he felt rather embarrassed at how he had just stormed in like a headless chicken. Better to leave him be.

But going back to bed was out of the question now. He was wide awake, so instead of going back to bed he opted on putting Lucas’s coffee machine to good use and trying to understand the manual of the phone. If he was extremely lucky he might even been able to use those instructions to get his phone to work. He would look less like a fool if he at least knew how to handle one of their machines, beside the coffee machine that was.

Time definitely passed quicker now that he had something to do. He even found that some of the things he read he could also put into action. Although this would probably not impress any of the spooks, Arthur felt rather pleased with himself.

His skills were put to the test sooner than he had believed. Lucas’s phone, still lying on the kitchen table, started buzzing and then started playing some kind of tune. For a moment he hesitated, but Lucas was still sleeping. He grabbed the device of the table and read the message on the screen. _New message_.

He knew how to deal with that. A big smile formed on his face as he pressed the right button. The message immediately popped into the display. Arthur couldn’t help but feel proud of himself. He had done it.

The smile disappeared as he read the text: NEED TO MEET URGENTLY. USUAL SPOT, IN AN HOUR. B. B was Ben, he knew. And Arthur knew all too well from his experience in Camelot that urgent meetings never meant well. At all.

 

Lucas was still bleary-eyed as he drove the car at what felt like top speed over the empty roads down to the place where they were to meet with Ben. Arthur tried to give the impression that he felt perfectly at ease here, but he knew he was failing. Spectacularly. His hands were clenched into fists and his stomach heaved every time Lucas took a sharp turn or jumped rather than eased the car over those annoying things they called speed bumps. Apparently they were intended to make people slow down. If that was the case, his taciturn companion either didn’t know that or didn’t care about it. Arthur suspected the latter.

It was almost a relief to get out of the car into the pouring rain. Lucas seemed to disagree. Now it were his hands that were balled into fists, his face that looked like he had just seen a ghost. He shoved his hands in his pockets and all but ran for the minimalist cover the car park of the flat was providing. Raindrops were still dripping down on them but at least they were out of the worst. Not that this did anything to ease the tension that was almost radiating off the other man.

Somehow Arthur doubted this was in any way related to the operation they were on. This had started the moment they got out of the car, when they had walked into the rain. If the idea hadn’t been so absurd Arthur would have said Lucas was afraid of the rain. He shook his head to get the ridiculous idea out of it, because that was what it was: ridiculously farfetched. Even Merlin would never come up with such a thing and heaven knew his servant was an expert when it came to floating strange ideas. It must be the lack of sleep that made him vulnerable to this kind of delusions.

Fortunately for him there was distraction near at hand. A man who he recognised from a picture Connie had shown him jogged down the length of the car park. He was soaked, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Lucas stepped into the light and Arthur followed his example. This man was Ben Kaplan, the man they had to meet, so showing his face should be safe.

‘I got your message,’ Lucas said.

Ben nodded, stretching his muscles after his run. His eyes wandered to Arthur and his eyebrows shot up. ‘Who’s this?’ There was suspicion in both his eyes and his voice. Arthur strongly suspected it was a spy trait. Not one single one of them seemed to just accept him like that. It would have been annoying had he not believed he might have done the same thing if he were in Ben’s place. After all, it had been made clear to him that Ben could very well be killed if Nadif found out he was an MI-5 officer. He just couldn’t take the risk of being found out.

Lucas summoned up his charming and reassuring smile. ‘The new addition to the team,’ he announced. ‘His name’s Arthur.’

They shook hands. ‘Pleasure to meet you.’ Although it didn’t sound like it was a pleasure. As soon as the issue of Arthur’s identity and allegiance were out of the way, all of their minds went back to the present danger and Arthur understood that. He did the same whenever there was a crisis in Camelot. Deal with the danger first and there would be time for niceties later.

‘Likewise,’ he said.

Lucas wasn’t listening. ‘What have you got?’ he asked.

‘The dry run’s definitely today,’ Ben replied.

‘Where?’ Lucas urged.

Ben shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Multiple targets. All I’ve got is that I’m working with Jawad and they’re watching the mobile networks.’

Arthur got a feeling they had done this before. It was short questions and short answers, that were still detailed and told them everything they wanted and needed to know. Not for the first time since he had come here Arthur wondered about the possibilities of having a secret service in Camelot. That might prevent a lot of attacks. After all, MI-5 seemed to do a lot of good work here.

‘Well, we’ll keep them up and eh…’ Lucas glanced at Arthur before turning back to Ben. ‘We’ll have your back every step of the way,’ he promised the younger man with a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Arthur tried not to show his surprise at that announcement. Yesterday he had gotten the impression Ros was very much opposed to him being out in the field for fear he might mess up. And now Lucas was saying that they would watch Ben? That meant they would follow him as he walked across London with his terrorist friend and the fake bombs, right? As much as he was surprised he also felt great. He could do something other than sit on the Grid or talk to a leader who was just too stupid to realise what was really going on. He always had been more of a man who was in the very middle of the action, not one who was sitting on his backside while others did the dirty work, like his father had done.

Lucas already turned to leave, anxious to get out of this wretched rain, Arthur guessed, but the sound of Ben’s voice stopped them both. ‘And after?’

Lucas half turned and raised his eyebrows by way of a question. ‘After?’

‘What happens to them after?’ Ben clarified.

‘Once we’ve got the real bombers, your cell will be lifted,’ Lucas said. He didn’t sound like he actually cared, but Arthur could see Ben’s face twisted in something that may well be called compassion. Poor man. He hadn’t been in any of this business long. He had yet to learn not to feel sympathy for those that would see his kingdom destroyed. Arthur knew how hard it was. Good grief, he still had trouble forcing himself to really hate Morgana for everything she had done, forcing himself not to feel sorry for everything she had been through. He just couldn’t afford to think that way. The day he did, would be a black day for Camelot. And the day these people got sympathy for their suspects, would be a bad day for their kingdom.

Ben stretched his muscles again. ‘This kid I’m working with… he’s… he’s barely able…’ The young man was clearly looking for the right words.

Lucas cut him off. ‘This kid you’re with wouldn’t think twice about blowing you, me and as many other people as possible to bits, right?’ he all but snapped. No false sympathy there.

‘Yeah, I know,’ Ben said, but from the way he was saying those words and not meeting the senior officer’s eyes Arthur could tell he didn’t feel it. It was just words.

‘Okay,’ Lucas nodded. ‘So, he’ll get what’s coming then.’

‘Right,’ Ben said.

‘Come on, you better get back.’ Lucas beckoned towards the exit where Ben had come from in the first place.

The junior officer nodded and glanced again at Arthur. There was no suspicion in his eyes now. There was sadness, and grief and confusion. Arthur really felt for him. He reminded him of a young knight he had trained once upon a time. The boy had been so naïve, but he had been a good fighter. He had also been very much like this twenty-first century man, feeling sympathy for those he was supposed to hate. It had been the death of him.

Arthur forced himself not to get caught up in that particularly painful memory. Regret didn’t change the past. So he nodded at Ben. ‘Don’t worry,’ he heard himself say. ‘We’ll make sure you get out of this alive.’ _Make sure Merlin never hears that_ , he told himself. _He might think I’m going soft._

In any case it reassured Ben. He turned and jogged away, pulling the hood over his face as he did so. Lucas and Arthur also turned to leave, the former shivering and looking up at the rain as if it had seriously offended him.

The strangest thing happened. For a moment, as the water fell straight onto his face, Lucas’s expression turned to one of pure panic and then he collapsed against the wall, holding his head in his hands.

What was going on here? Was he sick, suffering a heart attack? Arthur had changed the habit of a lifetime before he had even thought about it. He knelt down. ‘Are you all right?’ _Yes, definitely going soft._

There was a flicker of something, pure fear in Lucas’s eyes as he looked up. Arthur had never seen anyone that scared before. _What’s going on here?_ But it disappeared as soon as the spook realised what had happened. He jumped to his feet, gave a curt nod and marched away, indicating this was a subject he didn’t want to discuss any further. To make that even more clear he pulled out his phone, announced that he needed to call Harry and Ros and then made the calls, mostly ignoring Arthur.

 _You’re hiding something_. There had been something wrong with the man and it had somehow something to do with the rain falling on his face. No matter what Merlin said, Arthur wasn’t stupid. And he knew just the person to talk to about this. Unfortunately she also happened to be his least favourite person: Ros Myers.

 

***

 

By the time Ros arrived at Thames House, Lucas and Arthur were already there. The latter was helping himself to coffee while the first was in Harry’s office, talking to the head of Section D. No sign yet of Merlin and Jo, but then, she didn’t expect to. She only called them ten minutes ago. She shook her head. Those two had wasted no time at all in getting together, but somehow she felt they would do well together. Not that she knew anything about that. Adam and she hadn’t been exactly a dream couple after all.

Connie came in through the pods and Ros snapped herself out of Merlin and Jo’s unexpected relationship. Like she had said: it wasn’t any of her business. She’d better keep herself occupied with things that were. So she got up and started giving orders to Connie and the other members of the team already there. After that she took her chair again and studied the files about their wannabe bombers, baptised Fox One, Two and Three, and Hawk, who was Ben. Honestly, someone needed to invest some money in the development of better codenames.

She only looked up when Arthur said her name.

She glanced up. ‘Arthur,’ she acknowledged.

‘I need to talk to you,’ he announced. If he ever sounded like a king, he did now.

‘Then go ahead,’ she said, trying to sound as not interested as she could. He might be good with the politicians, but that didn’t mean she suddenly tolerated his presence on the Grid. And now she had learned that he was going out in the field today, even though she had specifically told Harry he didn’t get anywhere near this operation. She had no idea how he’d done it, but it made it difficult for her to put up with him. ‘Or were you waiting for my bloody permission to speak?’

‘It’s about Lucas,’ Arthur continued, ignoring her tone. Anyone else would have run for cover by now, but not him apparently.

Ros’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. She knew that tone and she knew that look. He was about to report something, tell on Lucas. If there was one thing she hated it was that, even more so because once she had been doing the exact same thing which ended up driving a member of the team into exile. That had made her learn her lesson, made her hate it.

‘What about him?’ she all but snapped, hoping that would discourage him to go on.

He didn’t take the hint. ‘He’s had a nightmare last night,’ the king told her. He didn’t even blink, not even when she directed her most icy stare at him.

‘As do a lot of other people,’ she pointed out, but in the back of her head a few dots connected. That must have been why Lucas had been so tired yesterday. He could handle one night without sleep, but if he had been having nightmares, probably about Russia, that explained a few things. But still, it wasn’t any of Arthur’s business. ‘And I hardly think it’s any of your business, your highness.’ The last two words were spoken with as much loathing as she could manage.

He still failed to be impressed. Bloody king. ‘There’s more,’ he told her and before she could even start to repeat her earlier statement that this didn’t concern him, he went on: ‘He is afraid of the rain. He looked up at it and he had a panic attack.’

 _Shit_. From the debriefing reports she knew Lucas had been subjected to water torture. She just didn’t know it was affecting his skills in the field. Part of her really wanted to feel sorry for him, but that was an emotion a spook could better not listen to. So instead she gave Arthur the full benefits of her anger. He had ignored an order after all. ‘You are very lucky I won’t tell this to anyone,’ she hissed, her voice low. ‘But next time you try to undermine one of my officers you get a one-way ticker back to that interrogation room. Did I make myself clear?’

‘I was only concerned,’ he protested.

That was about as likely as her ever being a people’s person and she scowled. ‘Then next time you keep your “concern” to yourself. It is not your place to question your superior officer, officer Pendragon.’ She had the intense satisfaction of seeing him colour bright red. Whether the cause was shame or anger, she couldn’t care. At least it shut him up nicely. ‘Now, I believe Lucas is ready to go,’ she continued with a sweet smile. ‘Be a good boy and do as he says or I _will_ have your ass back in that basement cell before you can say Camelot.’

 _Bloody king_ , she thought again as Arthur retreated with all the dignity he could muster after her tongue-lashing. He obviously had never learned to do as he was told. Heaven knew what they were in for now that Harry had him unleashed in the field, ordered to follow Ben and his Al-Qaeda friend. Fortunately Lucas would be keeping an eye on him.

The next half hour passed soon as she issued orders to the team and made sure everything was in position. She dispatched Merlin and Jo as soon as they had entered the Grid to follow one of their foxes and rapped orders through the phone at the team that would take care of the remaining fox.

But she was also pleased with herself. By the time their wannabe bombers were ready to go, so was her team and most of that was thanks to her.

‘Okay everyone,’ she said briskly. ‘All units in place. Do we have visuals on foxes one to three?’ This was her day. She could feel it. Harry hadn’t left his office since she arrived and she was okay with that. She knew where he was when she would need him, but she didn’t think that would be the case. It was only a dry run, after all.

As Connie voiced her confirmation of the visuals, she was distracted by Harry’s sudden appearance. He had his coat on and gave every impression of going outside. _What on earth?_

‘Ros?’ he asked.

‘Harry,’ she nodded, the question written probably all over her face.

‘You can handle a dry run,’ he told her, as he put on his gloves. ‘Red-flash me if anything untoward occurs.’ After that he walked over to the pods.

Before she had the chance to say anything he was gone and she found herself staring at the pods, wondering what the hell happened here. Was he going to walk out in the middle of an operation? Without the head of the section here to fall back on, her certainty was almost completely smashed to pieces. Suddenly it didn’t sound that likely anymore that everything would be all right.

But she would rather die than let her subordinates find that out. So she straightened her back and addressed them again. ‘Okay people, let’s keep this clean and by the numbers. We have three Foxes and Ben is our Hawk. Connie, can you get me an update?’

If anyone noticed her uncertainty, they didn’t let her know. The intelligence analyst just replied as if this was just another normal day and the operation nothing special at all. ‘They’re on the move, Ros.’

She nodded and mentally braced herself. It had begun.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somethings just don't go according to plan.

**Chapter 14**

 

Lucas drove them down to the place he said their suspects were going to emerge. He had handed Arthur an earpiece and something called a microphone, which allowed them to remain in contact with the Grid and the other surveillance teams. Hearing Ros’s voice in his ear somehow made that all the more real to him and for the first time he started to feel a little uneasy. He wouldn’t admit to being nervous, because that was definitely not what it was, but he didn’t really like this either. It was dangerous after all.

‘There they are,’ Lucas muttered, his eyes never leaving the crowded street outside the car. The senior officer was tense and alert, but nothing like he had been that morning. This was just professional now, Arthur could tell.

They hadn’t spoken about what had happened in the car park. Lucas seemed to think it embarrassing and Arthur didn’t want things to get awkward, especially since they were to work together in a city he didn’t know and would doubtlessly get lost in if he were to get separated from his colleague. He had tried to talk to Ros about it, though, but she didn’t seem to think it was important. Something wrong there, but it would have to wait.

‘Hawk and Fox Three on the Ground,’ Lucas reported. ‘We’re following.’

They left the car and walked slowly after their suspects, one of whom Arthur recognised as Ben. Through his earpiece he could hear Ros demand a status update from the other teams. Nadif was apparently on his way to work and Fox Two had been spotted in a place called York Road.

Jo and Merlin, who were following the first Fox, had not yet reported and Arthur started to feel a bit worried. This was a big city. Anything could have happened to him. And that was all the more likely because Merlin was such a clumsy idiot all the time.

‘This is Zulu Eight,’ the follower of Fox Two reported. ‘Suspect’s carrying a blue holdall.’

 _Holdall_? Arthur looked at Lucas for explanation.

‘Blue bag,’ he clarified, after which he confirmed the presence of two such bags on their suspects to the Grid.

‘Do you think’s the bomb is in there?’ Arthur asked.

Lucas shook his head. ‘Probably not today. It’s only a dry run and they won’t want to get caught too soon. It’s most likely filled with rubbish.’

That made him feel a little better. The thought of devices you couldn’t defend yourself against with a sword made him feel rather jumpy. He liked weapons he could actually fight and bombs didn’t fall in that category. It was the same with magic, he guessed. There was just no defending yourself from it.

He was distracted by a familiar voice in his ear. ‘This is Zulu Four. We have our eyes on the suspect. He’s carrying a blue holdall.’

Thank God, that was Merlin and he even sounded like his own cheerful self. He apparently had no problem with the idea that that man he was following might or might not be carrying a bomb.

A glance at his companion for the day taught him that he didn’t seem to be bothered either. Contrary to his behaviour early that morning he was now calm, relaxed even. He was still alert and his eyes never strayed far from the men they were following, but he wasn’t scared. Well, that might have something to do with the fact that the rain had stopped. There was even a bit of blue sky to be detected.

‘So, what is it we’re actually doing?’ he wondered.

Lucas shrugged. ‘We’re following, noting what they’re doing, where they’re going.’

‘And then?’ he asked. ‘Are we going to arrest them?’ He thought he had heard Lucas say that they would at some point, so he naturally supposed it would be at the end of today, when this group had done what it was supposed to be doing. Let them outlive their usefulness and then arrest them and make sure they never see the sun again.

To his surprise the other man shook his head. ‘No, not yet. Only when we have the other cell, the one that’s going to do the real attack.’

That made sense, so he nodded and let Lucas lead the way into the twenty-first century equivalent of a tavern. Arthur could see the two suspects sitting at a table, the bags parked at their feet, but he knew better than to stare at them. _They must not get the slightest idea that we’re watching_ , Harry had said yesterday. So the best way not to let them know was by not watching at all.

They sat down at a table with their backs to the suspects, but still within earshot. Lucas picked up something he called a newspaper and pretended to read it, while Arthur studied the table he was sitting at, listening intently to the conversation taking place behind him.

‘So, where is it?’ the first man, whose voice he recognised as Ben’s, asked. ‘A railway station or what?’

Lucas tensed, focused on that conversation as well, but they were disappointed. ‘Look at them,’ the other man ordered. Arthur thought Ben had called him Jawad. ‘Look, if this was for real, they’d have no idea.’ He sounded like he thought that was extremely funny, while the very thought of it made Arthur’s stomach heave. ‘And then, boom!’

The men were still talking in hushed voices and the rest of the people in here was too busy minding their own business to notice. Arthur suspected that if anyone did hear what those two were talking about, this place would be a chaos within mere seconds.

‘You shouldn’t joke about it,’ Ben chastised him mildly. Arthur wondered if he was the only one who could hear the underlying tone of unease.

The sound of a chair being pushed back made Arthur forget his determination and he looked discreetly over his shoulder, just in time to see Ben get up and take his bag with him.

‘What?’ Jawad demanded.

‘Toilet,’ Ben said, laughing at him.

Jawad laughed. ‘Not your belly again, man?’ he shouted after his friend.

‘Shut up, man!’ Ben yelled back. He disappeared out of sight and both Lucas and Arthur returned their attention back to the newspaper, neither of them actually reading it.

‘When he comes back, I’ll go,’ Lucas muttered under his breath, his lips barely moving. ‘See if he has left any messages for us.’

‘Can’t I go?’ Arthur asked. That might not be a smart move, but he was just about done with being kept away from the action. Ros hadn’t exactly made it a secret that she didn’t think he should be in the field at all. Doubtlessly she thought he was a king who didn’t do anything but sit on his throne all day. She thought he was a nuisance and a burden and Arthur couldn’t help but respond to the challenge.

‘I’d like my head attached to my body,’ his companion replied. ‘And I have a feeling the boss is going to bite it off if I allow you to go.’

As much as he hated that answer, that did sound like something Ros would do. So he bit back his disappointment and nodded.

Lucas offered him a reassuring smile. ‘Give it time. I’m sure she’s not going to let you sit around doing nothing all the time.’

He forced his face back into a smile as Lucas got up to take Ben’s place in the toilet, just as Jawad was trying to do the same. But Lucas was a lot quicker than that wannabe bomber and he had already disappeared before Jawad’s frustrated shouts had ended.

 

***

 

Merlin enjoyed being outside again. If they hadn’t been following this dangerous man, he could really have enjoyed the novelty of all the things he saw around him. The first part of the journey had taken place in something called the Tube, a kind of horseless carriage that moved around at great speed using underground tunnels to get from one place to the next. He had a feeling he could walk around here for weeks without having seen everything.

He wondered how Arthur was doing with Lucas. He hadn’t seen the king this morning. Arthur and Lucas had already left when Jo and he finally made it to Thames House. Lucas let Arthur do some of the reports through their interesting communication devices and Camelot’s king was sounding like his usual I’m-not-getting-my-way-self. But Arthur also knew they were dependant on these people to bring them home again and to help them catch Agravaine. Hopefully that would prevent the king from doing anything too stupid.

The man they were following, codenamed Fox One, was very young, barely out of his teens, in his early twenties, Merlin guessed. He was nervous and indecisive, lingering on corners of the streets for minutes some time, which made it difficult for them to follow. They had to improvise several times so that they could stop too without attracting attention. Merlin had tied his shoe laces several times, as had Jo, they also had three different newspapers in their bags, which they bought at small shops, kiosks Jo called them, and the remnants of his last cup of coffee were still in his hand.

‘You’re doing well,’ Jo complimented him when it was time to stop again. Merlin pretended to look for something in his bag, something he, of course, wouldn’t “find” until their suspect was on the move again.

He offered her a wide smile. ‘I’ve had a lot of practise in Camelot,’ he explained. Following Morgana, Grunhilda, the Lady Catrina… The list was near endless and most of the time he could follow them without being seen. Strange, he had never before thought of himself as a spy, but now that he was working with real, professional ones he started to notice some striking similarities. One, they made sure their country was safe from attacks, two, they followed people around a lot, three, they also listened to other people’s conversations in order to prevent the next disaster and four, like him they also never got any credit at all for what they did, because, also like him, they did their jobs in secret.

‘Is it really such a dangerous place?’ Jo wondered.

‘No less dangerous than London, I think,’ he replied.

He was about to explain why he thought that when he was distracted by Lucas’s voice coming from his earpiece. ‘Oh, shit!’

‘What’s going on?’ Ros’s voice demanded. Was it just his imagination or was she nervous? He hadn’t known her long, but that didn’t sound like her.

‘This is not a dry run,’ Lucas reported. ‘This is live. I repeat: this is live! The devices are primed. I’ve got hold of Hawk and Fox Three. They are together.’

Merlin’s head swivelled at their Fox and a cold shiver went down his spine. This was not a dry run. They had been fooled by someone whose idea of humour was to let MI-5 watch the bombs go off right under their very noses, because they were still thinking this was a dry run. Merlin remembered thinking that something wasn’t right about Marlin and now wished he had kept his foot down when he said they should find out what was wrong. He suspected there were two other people who were thinking the same thing now.

There was some confusion on the Grid. Someone asked about the second cell, but Ros cut him off. By the sound of it she was positively fuming, but at least she sounded kind of calm and in control. Strangely enough that helped Merlin to calm down himself. She knew what she was doing and if they all kept their heads, they had still a chance of seeing this through. And he was a powerful warlock after all. He could handle this.

Ros started to issue orders at her subordinates. Merlin heard words that sounded like back-up, fire weapons and bomb disposal and felt slightly reassured. They weren’t really alone in this. Help was coming.

‘What do you think, Lucas?’ Ros asked in the end.

‘I think they’re toying with us.’ His mood certainly hadn’t improved since he had found out this was not the dry run, but the boom. ‘They want to detonate the bombs while we watch for maximum embarrassment.’

That perfectly fit in with Merlin’s own assessment of the situation. ‘Can’t we just stop them now?’ he asked.

‘CO19 isn’t in place yet,’ Ros replied, but her voice missed the usual edge of snappiness that it seemed to take on whenever he said something that she thought was beyond stupid. ‘And we can’t put the mobile network down, because they’re watching it.’

Merlin frowned. He knew what a mobile network was (kind of), but he had no idea what this had to do with this attack. ‘How does that come into it?’ he demanded.

‘The bombers get a phone call from Nadif,’ Ros explained. ‘They think it’s to stand them down…’

‘But it’s the signal for the attack?’ Merlin finished.

‘Exactly. And if we put the network down, they’ll detonate where they are. We _have_ to wait for the phone calls.’

 _Shit_. Merlin understood why it would be bad if those bombs went off now. They were in a very crowded street and if he had gotten anything out of Malcolm and Connie’s lessons on bombs, dozens of people would die if one of those went off now.

‘Can’t we just arrest Nadif or something?’ he asked, almost in despair. Because if you couldn’t take on the subordinates, you had to get to the leader.

‘Not yet,’ Ros replied. ‘He’ll remote detonate them before we can get to him.’

Merlin had to give it to Nadif; he was a lot cleverer than he had given him credit for. This way it would all come down to the last possible minute to stop the disaster in fourfold from happening. Merlin didn’t use to have panic attacks, but this time he came remarkably close to it. Until he remembered that this wasn’t so different from how things went in Camelot. It all came down to the last second there as well. He should be used to it by now.

 

***

 

Arthur didn’t like this. At all. The point was that Ros made perfect sense. It was just her proposed way to deal with this, take the Foxes down one by one at the very last second, that he had a problem with. His heart was beating far too fast to be healthy and he was sure he felt hot and cold at the same time.

They followed Ben and his friend to a market, all the while listening to what was going on with the other teams. He also seemed to be the only one to panic. Merlin had even been discussing plans with Ros like he was discussing nothing more important than the weather conditions. At least that helped him to get a grip on himself. He was not going to behave like a baby while his servant, a man with no defence skills whatsoever, was as calm as calm got. He was the king, even though that meant nothing here, and he would behave like one.

He also felt a lot calmer when Zulu Eight, who had been following the second Fox, reported that the ‘Fox Two is down, the device is neutralised.’ At least they knew what they were doing and one of the bombers had been successfully arrested and his bomb couldn’t go off. They could do this.

That didn’t stop the nerves from returning when he realised they were walking towards a market. Fox Two had been targeting a market and it would seem that the other ones had also been instructed to detonate their bombs there.

Malcolm didn’t make the nerves any easier. Over the communication piece in his ear he could hear the elderly man tell the others the pictures of the bomb had come in. ‘Whoever built this wasn’t taking any chances. There are three ways to detonate this explosive: timer, manual detonator and remote.’ Which made the chances of taking them all down without at least one going off all that much smaller and Arthur felt his stomach do some stunts again.

Apparently Ros changed her mind now as well, ordering to take down Nadif and Fox One. Arthur’s stomach calmed down a bit when Ro reported they had Nadif arrested. All they needed to do was to keep Fox Three “contained” until the bomb disposal had arrived. From the way she said it, it sounded like that wasn’t much of a big deal, but Arthur found it a bit hard to forget that that man was carrying a weapon that could blow them all into thousands of pieces. Oh, how he longed for Camelot, where life wasn’t always safe, but at least it was safer than London. That had to count for something.

And it got even worse. Jawad started looking over his shoulders, looking at them and Arthur could see he was on to them. He tried to minimise the damage by pretending to watch the wares, but he knew even before he started that it wasn’t working.

‘He knows,’ he told Lucas.

The other man nodded. ‘I know. Ros, Fox Three is panicking. He could detonate.’

‘CO19 should have visual any moment,’ Ros replied.

Well, they’d better, because from what Arthur was seeing that man was seriously getting scared. He could see Ben talking to him, but it was no use. Jawad did a runner at the same moment the back-up arrived and pointed the gun at exactly the wrong man, allowing the real bomber to get away.

But Arthur had been hunting for years. He left Lucas to deal with this little mistake and went after the real danger. He forced himself not to think of the consequences and allowed his instincts to take over. He pushed people aside and just ran.

He caught up with Jawad near an alley that led away from the market. He could hear the man’s laboured breathing and felt the fear that was practically radiating from him. But he remembered Lucas’s words that this man would blow them all to pieces without as much as a second thought and that cured him of any pity he might have felt.

All it took was one well-planned jump and both of them collided with the ground. Jawad fought for dear life, but he wasn’t trained and Arthur had, as he had once told Merlin, been taught how to kill since birth. That was no contest at all. He pressed the bomber to the ground and used his small hunting knife to cut the back loose from him, tossing it at the men that he thought were part of their back-up.

‘I’ve got him,’ he told them. ‘Get that bag and neutralise the bomb.’ Now he was finally doing what he did best, fighting and commanding others, he felt much more sure of himself than he had since he had arrived in this land. Until now, he had felt like a burden, someone who was just tagging along because his friend was apparently needed here. Now he was really contributing to the operation with skills that only he possessed.

His command, however, was met with confused faces. ‘Who the hell are you?’ their leader demanded.

‘Aidan Parker, Senior Case Officer in Section D, MI-5,’ Arthur snapped at them. ‘Now do as I say.’

And so they did. Arthur helped restrain Jawad and then took a few steps back.

‘That was a very brave thing to do,’ Lucas’s voice suddenly commented.

Arthur shrugged. He would have done the same thing if he had been in Camelot.

‘Is the Fox down?’ Ros’s impatient voice demanded. It was only now that the excitement started to wear off that Arthur realised she had been asking the same question at least ten times before.

‘Fox Three is down and device neutralised,’ he responded. He surprised himself by using their codes as if he had been doing nothing else for years.

‘Well, one more and we have our fur coat,’ Ros quipped. Oh, she definitely was more cheerful than she had been before.

This was of course the time that he should have realised it had all gone much too easy. There were four bombs, including Ben’s, and not one of them had gone off yet. If he had learned anything from living in Camelot it would be that nothing, repeat nothing, ever went as it should. And today was no exception.

They were just discussing what to do now, when one of the back-up people came walking over to them with a ringing phone, telling them that this was Jawad’s phone and that they wanted to know what to do with this call.

Arthur’s eyes widened. ‘But Nadif’s been arrested,’ he said, as if that would stop this all from happening.

Ben took the phone. ‘Withheld number,’ he said with one glance at the display. Arthur had no idea what that meant, but he had a feeling that it was bad.

‘Take the call,’ Lucas ordered.

Ben answered, his eyes wide and shocked. A voice from the phone. Arthur and Lucas could hear what was being said because Malcolm was listening in on the Grid and sent the sound through to them. How, Arthur had no idea, the technology of this time was far beyond him. The only thing that mattered was that he did hear what was being said.

It was some sort of code, he guessed, four numbers, and Ben was supposed to give another code in return, a code that they had no way of knowing. But it didn’t matter anymore, did it? Jawad was already arrested and his bomb couldn’t go off anymore. Why was everyone looking so serious right now?

‘Nadif’s not the remote detonator.’ Ros seemed to have reached a state of panic now. ‘He’s not the remote detonator and Fox One is still alive.’

Arthur froze into place. Merlin. Merlin was following Fox One and someone out there could detonate the bomb that lunatic was carrying if they didn’t get that code right. So when Malcolm announced he had worked it out and started telling them the code, Arthur could have hugged the man, and everyone who knew Arthur would have known that _that_ meant something.

It wasn’t enough. Whoever it was that was calling wanted to know where Jawad was and didn’t believe Ben’s lie that he had gone to the toilet. He ended the phone call and left the three of them staring at one another, fearing the worst.

‘We have been played from the start,’ Lucas said. ‘Nadif’s not the big fish at all.’

‘But if he wasn’t, who was?’ was Ros’s logical question.

‘The man who gave us Nadif in the first place,’ Lucas said.

‘Marlin,’ three voices chorused: Lucas, Ros and Merlin. Arthur recognised the name as belonging to the man the three of them had gone to meet only yesterday. It would seem as if he had betrayed them.

Arthur had been frustrated before, but he doubted that he had ever been as frustrated as he was now. He could only listen as Ros commanded Jo and Merlin to clear the area around their target and ordered the back-up with them to take the last Fox down as soon as possible. There was nothing he could do while his servant was in the very middle of the danger. There was a lot of noise coming from his earpiece: screaming people, Merlin and Jo yelling at the people to get out of there.

And then it was silent. Somehow that was even more frightening than all the screaming and Arthur felt the blood drain from his face. They were too late. He could feel it deep down.

And then he heard Merlin’s voice, but at the same time it didn’t sound like him at all. His voice was cold, commanding and using the language he recognised as the language all magic-users used: ‘ _Scildan_!’

But he didn’t get the time to take it in. He didn’t get the chance to feel angry, or betrayed or hurt, because then the explosion drowned out all the noise that had been coming through his earpiece.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur has some thinking to do.

Chapter 15

 

Merlin had become positively jumpy ever since Lucas had announced that this was not the dry run and Malcolm’s announcement that there were no less than three ways to detonate these bombs hadn’t made things any better.

And Jo’s mood wasn’t much better. Her face was pale and her hands clenched into fists. Merlin remembered her telling yesterday that it was her first time back in the field since she was abducted. She had already been fretting about today and now it had just gone as wrong as it possibly could.

It didn’t do much to calm him down to learn that not Nadif, but probably Marlin was the remote detonator. Merlin could not for the life of him figure out why Marlin would suddenly detonate bombs in London when he had been providing MI-5 with good, reliable information for years. The warlock had even thought him to be a nice kind of guy, although he had definitely some secrets he didn’t plan on telling MI-5. But why would he do something like this?

But now was definitely not the time to ponder Marlin’s motivations. Fox One was still alive and by now Marlin would know MI-5 was on to him and his bombers. If he would have been in the Pakistani’s shoes, Merlin would waste no time in detonating his only remaining bomb, the bomb that was hidden away in a blue bag being held by the young man that was walking only meters in front of Merlin and Jo.

‘Ros, what do we do?’ he asked, noticing how tense his own voice sounded. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to dealing with bombs, he wasn’t used to any of this and he could feel the panic fighting to take over, effectively making sure he wouldn’t be able to lift a finger anymore. Give him evil sorcerers or magical beasts any day. This was just downright scary.

‘It’s too late to put down the mobile network,’ Ros said.

‘That means?’ Whatever that meant, he was sure it wouldn’t cause him to do an instant happy dance around the market. More like the exact opposite.

‘Marlin will be able to detonate before we can stop him,’ Ros replied.

Great. That bomb could go off any moment and there was, in short, nothing they would be able to do to stop that catastrophe from happening.

‘What. Do. We. Do?’ he repeated, emphasising every word.

As the Section Chief responded her voice sounded remarkably cold and ordering, not unlike Arthur in a crisis situation. ‘Clear the area around the target. Repeat: clear the area around the target. The suspect must be immobilised immediately.’

Well, that made sense and it was something Merlin was good at. He immobilised suspects almost on a daily basis. Jo was already running to catch up with the suspect and Merlin followed hot on her heels.

From other sides Merlin could see very dangerous looking men with a lot of muscles pushing their way through the crowds, guns in hand, making their way to Fox One. He still hadn’t noticed their presence and was still casually strolling towards his goal, wherever that was supposed to be.

‘Everyone, clear the area!’ Jo yelled at the top of her lungs, gaining her everyone’s immediate attention, including the attention of the Fox. ‘Clear the area, this man has a bomb!’

And all hell broke loose. People started screaming, running and pushing each other to get out as fast as they possibly could. Fox One tried to make a run for it, but the back-up people were a lot faster and literally jumped on their suspect’s back, effectively preventing him from going anywhere.

Merlin could only watch as the market transformed into the best organised chaos he had ever seen. People were running as if their life depended on it, which it very well might, no one even paying attention to their surroundings, not caring what happened to the other people in the square. That was something that was completely alien to Merlin. In Camelot people always stopped to help one another, no matter what the crisis.

And then he saw it. Or rather, her. It was a small girl, maybe four or five years old, alone, separated from her mother, crying and perfectly scared. She was standing all alone as people ran around, looking completely lost in the crowd.

He didn’t think. He started to run, pushing people aside as he went, exactly like all the others did, grabbing the girl from the street and holding her close to prevent her from falling. She didn’t even really look at him. She just held onto him for dear life, hiding her face against his shoulder as Merlin ran over to Jo.

‘Move!’ she shouted at a youth that was staring at her, clearly thinking this was all some kind of joke. Then he saw the bomber being held down and changed his mind, opting on getting out of this place as fast as he possibly could.

The market was emptying out, the screaming slowly fading away. The girl was silently crying against his shoulder, but at least she was out of danger’s way. He had her and he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. Jo was with him too and the two back-up men held Fox One against the ground. For a moment everything looked like it could be fine after all.

And then he saw the look in the bomber’s eyes. It wasn’t fearful or disappointed. He radiated defiance and triumph. And Merlin remembered that it was too late to put down the mobile network, too late to do anything to prevent that bomb from going off. And it could happen any minute, any moment even. And if Malcolm was to be believed, they were right in the danger zone.

There wasn’t any time to think, no time to shout warnings and definitely no time to get out of here, so Merlin did the only thing he _knew_ he could do, the _only_ thing he could do: he used magic. On the streets of London. Out there for everyone to see. For everyone to hear.

He threw his hand forward. ‘ _Astrice_!’ he shouted, blasting the two CO19 men away from the suspect as far as he possibly could. They might get some bruises and broken bones, but at least they would live.

The suspect’s eyes widened in surprise. He was unrestrained now, but Merlin didn’t think that did really matter now anyway. He felt more than he actually knew that time had run out and that they had only seconds to spare. Fox One wouldn’t have the time to get up and run into a crowd of people, just like Merlin and Jo would be unable to get themselves to safety in time.

He looked into those eyes, burning with the belief that what he did was right. So misled, so sure of his purpose. It reminded him so much of those sorcerers that thought it would be in their best interest to bring down Camelot.

Jo had frozen into place, staring at Fox One, the realisation that they were too late as clear as day in her eyes.

But they weren’t too late. It wasn’t too late, not for him. ‘Stay behind me!’ he ordered Jo and then he held out his hand again. ‘ _Scildan_!’ he shouted, pouring all his fear and anxiety in the spell, hoping that that would make it stronger, would make sure that they were safe.

The shield rose up before them just as the explosion drowned out all the other noise, making it almost impossible for Merlin to think. He could feel the girl’s hands grabbing his jacket as she clung to him as if her life depended on it, too afraid and confused to do anything else. Jo held on to him as well.

His shield withstood the power of the explosion, but only just. He could feel it pushing against the shield, demanding of it to give in and let it have its deadly way. He closed his eyes and doubled his efforts.

And he came out victorious. The pressure vanished as soon as it had started, leaving the market looking like a battle field. Merlin’s jaw dropped. There was just nothing where the Fox had been lying. There were some bits and pieces that might once have belonged to a human being, but Merlin didn’t exactly want to spend much time thinking about that. It was just too horrible.

The rest of the market looked slightly better, but not much. The stands had been blown over, the wares that had been lying on them were scattered all over the place. Merlin’s eyes scanned the square automatically to search for the CO19 officers. One of them he spotted on the far end of the market, sporting a bleeding hand, but he was already getting to his feet again. His colleague had not been so lucky. He had still been within the range of the blast and now he his head was lying in an unnatural position, the eyes open, but not seeing anymore. There was a bloody mess where once his right foot had been. Merlin didn’t feel the need to find out where that part had gone, at all.

 _This place looks like a battlefield_ , was the thought that shot through his head. _No, not a battlefield, a graveyard._ This was a place of death now. Somehow it only seemed fitting that the rest of the market looked accordingly.

His ears were ringing, he noticed now that the noise of the explosion had finally died down. Stupidly enough that was the second impression that got through the shock of what had just happened here. His ears were ringing, a high-pitched noise that made it hard to think and decide what needed to be done. Somewhere in the back of his head he knew that there was something, several things actually that needed to be done now. He just couldn’t bring himself to do them, or even remember what they were as he was taking in the horrors that had happened right in front of him, the horrors that he had not been able to prevent.

So, of course he made mistakes before and of course people had died because of those mistakes, but it had never been so close to him as now. Things somehow seemed to be far more intense here than they were in Camelot.

The girl was crying, the force of her sobs making her shoulders shake. That was what snapped him out of his shocked state in the end. He put his free hand on her back and, not knowing what else he was supposed to be doing, patted her reassuringly, telling her softly that she was safe and that it would all be okay.

He knew it was a lie before the words had even left his mouth. Some meters away he could see the shape of a woman with the same shade of reddish brown curls as the girl, lying motionlessly on the ground. The mother had come back for her child and had died trying to get to her. Her daughter was safe, but that girl’s life would never be the same again.

‘Zulu Three and Four, respond,’ a voice said in their earpieces. It sounded so tense and worried even that it took Merlin some seconds to realise that it actually belonged to Ros Myers. It took him some more seconds to process that it wasn’t the first time she had said those words.

Jo was on her feet again, her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide with shock.

‘Zulu Three and Four, respond.’ Was he mistaken or was there an underlying tone of panic to be heard there?

That snapped Jo out of her shock. ‘I’m here,’ she replied weakly, still looking around her as if she could hardly believe it all. ‘We’re here.’

‘Status update, Zulu Three.’ Ros’s words might sound cold and uncaring, but Merlin could hear the relief in them. Maybe sticking to the professional codes was just her way of dealing with it all. And the words she added to that in a softer tone only confirmed that theory. ‘Talk to me.’

‘One CO19 officer down,’ Jo reported, her voice sounding like it didn’t belong to her, but something else that spoke the words while the person still gazed out over this horrible place. ‘And one civilian casualty.’

Merlin forced himself not to look at the girl’s mother. It was just too awful to think about.

‘Thank you, Zulu Three.’ The Section Chief’s voice was soft and strangely comforting, like the one normal thing when your entire world has just been turned upside down. ‘We need you back on the Grid.’

The line went dead and Merlin took Jo’s hand, trying to give her a reassuring smile. ‘Come on, we’ve got to go,’ he told her. He didn’t know where those words just came from, but he didn’t remember planning to say them.

But maybe this was what they both needed, a purpose to get them going again. Somehow it helped to be needed. And she took a deep breath and nodded. ‘We’ve got to go,’ she agreed. And so they did.

 

***

 

Arthur had never felt so helpless, never in his entire life. The explosion came, making their earpieces wail and bleep in protest and all Arthur could think was: _Not Merlin!_ In that endless moment he didn’t think a second about what he had just heard. The magic words that had come out of his servant’s mouth were all but forgotten. The worry and fear pushed all those questions, all those hurt feelings away until there was simply nothing else to be felt than panic.

Lucas’s face betrayed almost nothing. It was as if his face had been carefully wiped clean, leaving a perfectly blank expression. He didn’t move. He could have turned into stone for all Arthur knew. Ben just looked at Arthur, his eyes wide, his mouth open. The look in his eyes told the king of Camelot that he didn’t think Merlin and Jo stood any chance of survival.

And that hurt. When he had found out that Morgana was a witch he had been filled with rage and disappointment, but now that he found out that his own servant was one of those foul magic-users as well, all he could do was fear for his life. _This is ridiculous_ , he thought as he waited for the noise in his ears to die down, to make out _any_ sound that might just indicate that Merlin was still alive.

Merlin had betrayed him. It was plain and simple. No one used magic unless they were planning on bringing down Camelot and all its inhabitants. Yet Arthur could not escape the notion that his servant was somehow different. When he had shouted those spells he had sounded like he was… well, Arthur couldn’t really say. It hadn’t sounded offensive, or aggressive.

But it didn’t matter anymore. No matter what Merlin had done back there, there was just no way he could have survived that bomb. Malcolm had briefed the pair of them on explosives yesterday and Arthur wasn’t stupid. He could connect the dots. Merlin must have been close to the bomb when it went off. There was just no hope.

The noise died down, but Arthur could not rejoice or even feel relieved that whatever this was, was over. There was only fear. _Please live, you idiot!_ How like Merlin it was to get too close to the heart of the trouble. He knew Merlin. The fool was more self-sacrificing than was healthy for anyone.

But he didn’t know Merlin at all, did he? He hadn’t known that the servant boy knew how to do magic. And it didn’t sound like this was the first time he’d done it. Merlin’s voice had been cold, commanding and most definitely not suffering from a lack of self-confidence. Yes, Merlin had been like a friend to him, but surely that didn’t mean anything now anymore? All those things he had done for Arthur had been rendered meaningless by the two spells that had come out of Merlin’s mouth just seconds ago.

Yet some part of his brain, or maybe it was his heart, still refused to believe that. There just were some things he couldn’t have faked. Arthur remembered all too clearly what had happened some months ago: the two of them trapped in a dark castle with no fire and an awful lot of Dorocha around. He remembered being scared and Merlin trying to cheer him up, even though Arthur could see the fear in his eyes as well. And he also remembered that noble fool jumping right in front of one of those creepy things, saving Arthur’s life, but nearly dying himself in the process. Wasn’t that all the answer he really needed?

But it was too late, pointless to think about. Merlin would be gone by now. His earpiece crackled, still protesting against the amount of noise that had been unleashed on it. Arthur was kind of surprised that it still worked. But there was nothing else to be heard. The silence was so terrifying that he started to shiver.

‘Zulu Three and Four, respond.’ Ros’s voice was as tense as Arthur felt.

Arthur held his breath in anticipation, but no one answered. The only thing he did hear was a child crying somewhere close to the microphone. God help them all, there had been a child involved in the attack. Was nobody safe from these maniacs?

‘Zulu Three and Four, respond.’ Ros kept repeating the same line over and over again, and with each time it went unanswered Arthur started to feel his hopes sink a little lower. It had been five minutes now and still nothing except the child’s crying.

And then, finally, came a sound that felt heavenly to Arthur. ‘I’m here.’ Jo’s voice, feeble and seemingly close to breaking-point, made it through to their earpieces. ‘We’re here.’

A sigh of relief escaped him. Ben actually looked like the weight of the world had just been lifted from his shoulders and the stone statue that had been Lucas started living again.

Arthur listened with half an ear as Jo reported the death of one CO19 officer and one civilian, trying to hear a sign of life from his manservant, but he didn’t hear anything until Ros had ordered them to get back to the Grid, and then he heard a soft but very familiar voice tell Jo that they needed to go. It was the same voice as he always known, nothing strange or dangerous about it. As it was, it was even strangely reassuring. If he hadn’t known any better he would have said that this was just another normal day and they had gotten themselves out of a tight spot in some kind of miraculous way, as per usual.

As per usual. That thought stuck in the king’s head as the three of them made their way back to Thames House again. Somehow this all seemed very similar to how things were in Camelot and he didn’t mean the nature of the attack itself. It was the dangerous situation and the lack of solutions to contain it in its early stages, so that it all came down to the very last minute. And even in the last minute it had all seemed hopeless and yet then something had happened and somehow it had all been miraculously fixed with the absolute minimum of damage. The only great difference was that Arthur now knew who worked the miracles in the first place. Because if he did that here, then how much of a coincidence would Merlin’s presence in Camelot be every time something strange happened?

 _I have been so stupid_. That wasn’t something Arthur Pendragon was prone to thinking, as anyone who knew him could tell you. _I have been so blind_.

Because the only explanation, the one that made the most sense, would be that Merlin was different from every magic-user Arthur had encountered before, that he was doing what every other one of his kind would probably describe as deranged and even suicidal. The fool gave every impression of protecting Camelot, no, protecting Arthur. If it had been anyone else, Arthur might not have believed in this seemingly ridiculous theory. But this was Merlin, the servant who rode out with him into battle, never wearing one piece of armour, and who yet almost always came out with not as much as a scratch. Why had he never thought that strange before?

And then another memory surfaced and Arthur was back in the ruined castle, shivering with the cold and the fear as he hid behind a piece of wall still standing with Merlin, hoping and praying the knights would find them before the Dorocha. There had been name-calling at first, each trying to keep the other’s spirits up. And the Arthur had confessed he had never been afraid of dying before and Merlin, not always the fool he seemed or pretended to be, had started telling him he shouldn’t start doing so now, because they would defeat the Dorocha together. Arthur, not knowing what to do with that statement, spoken with so much conviction, had joked about how Merlin was a brave man between battles. Merlin had laughed. ‘You don’t know how many times I’ve saved your life,’ he told Arthur.

At the time Arthur had taken that as a joke. He faintly recalled joking about making Merlin court jester when he became king, but what if Merlin’s bold claim had not been a joke? What if it had been the truth, disguised as a joke, because that was the only way Merlin would ever be able to tell Arthur what he’d done over the years?

 _I have been so blind_.

By the time he reached that conclusion, they had arrived at the Grid. Ben and Lucas disappeared to their respective desks and Arthur, not knowing what he should be doing, just let himself drop onto the nearest chair, which, coincidentally, happened to be Merlin’s. He was nowhere to be seen and neither was his companion for the day. They must not be back yet.

He hadn’t finished that thought before the sound of the pods opening and closing drew his attention. One of them held Jo, but Arthur couldn’t care less about her at the moment. His gaze was inevitably drawn to the other person.

Merlin was dressed in twenty-first century clothes, but they were dusty and dirty, as were his face and his hair. The expression on Merlin’s face was one that Arthur had seldom seen before. He could only remember one occasion when he had looked like that. It was after Arthur’s father had died and the servant had looked just as devastated as Arthur had felt, although the king knew how to hide it better. Merlin hadn’t even been trying to hide, just as he wasn’t now. The sorcerer’s face looked like he had been to hell and back again.

It was only when he established this that Arthur noticed the small figure Merlin held in his arms. It was a small girl, only four, maybe five years old. Her clothes and reddish brown curls were as dirty as Merlin’s. He couldn’t see the child’s face, because it was hidden against Merlin’s shoulder. The sorcerer held the child gently, stroking her hair and murmuring soft, probably reassuring words. Seeing him like that, caring for the girl, it was impossible to think of him as a dangerous man bent on Camelot’s downfall. If he still had doubts, this sight made them disappear faster than he could blink his eyes.

‘What’s that?’ he demanded, walking over to Merlin, beckoning to the child.

Merlin grinned, but the enjoyment didn’t reach his eyes. He still looked like he had been to the mouth of hell. ‘I believe they call it a girl.’ The joke was out of habit, and more a show of bravado than anything else.

But the jokes might just help them cope, just as they had all those months ago in that ruined castle. ‘I can see that, _Mer_ lin. What’s she doing here?’

That had been the wrong question. There were actually tears shimmering in Merlin’s eyes. ‘Her mother died in the explosion,’ he whispered. The child seemed to be sleeping, which meant that she at least couldn’t hear what was being said. ‘I never even saw her before the bomb went off. And her daughter was all alone there, when the people started to run. I couldn’t do nothing.’

How he had been able to think that Merlin could actually _harm_ another human being was entirely beyond Arthur. Merlin, harming someone? _Please_! ‘You’re an idiot, Merlin,’ he told the servant.

He misinterpreted. ‘Do you think I should have let her die there?’ he demanded, the righteous fury obvious in his voice, something Arthur wasn’t used to hearing.

Arthur shook his head. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I meant: you are an idiot, practising magic right in the very heart of a kingdom where it’s punishable by death of all places and then use it to protect said kingdom. Are you out of your mind? Do you have some kind of death wish you haven’t told me about?’

Merlin just stared at him. ‘You heard?’ he whispered.

Arthur was tempted to roll his eyes, very much so even. ‘I’m starting to wonder why I ever even considered you to be wise, Merlin!’ he exclaimed. ‘You’re lucky if there’s anyone in London who hasn’t heard you. Yes, of course I heard you, you idiot.’

Merlin seemed puzzled. ‘And you’re not going to throw me in the dungeons?’ he asked in a disbelieving voice.

Arthur snorted. ‘And then who is going to polish my boots?’ he inquired. ‘Have you seen the state of them?’ True, Merlin’s boots were definitely in a worse state, but that wasn’t the real point here. He was trying to convey the message that he wasn’t angry, sacking or arresting Merlin. The truth was that he would want nothing more than continue as before, with the minor change that he now knew Merlin’s biggest secret.

Merlin understood that message without Arthur having to spell it out for him. The hint of a smile graced his features, the tiniest twinkle sparked in his eyes. ‘Oh, I think George would be more than eager to take over my duties.’

Arthur laughed, a real one. ‘Ha!’ he barked, ruffling Merlin’s hair, causing the dust to fall out of it and onto the ground. ‘I’d get bored listening to his jokes about brass all the time.’

The smile hesitatingly widened a little. ‘I can provide you with one of those any time,’ he warned the king.

‘Don’t you dare. I’ll have you know I’ll have you thrown in the stocks as soon as I hear the word brass coming out of your mouth.’

Merlin grinned, a hesitant and weary one, but a grin nonetheless.

Arthur replied with one of his own and nudged the younger man for good measure. ‘You’re an idiot,’ he repeated, shaking his head in mock desperation.

‘Dollophead,’ Merlin muttered.

And somehow all was well with the world again.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ros and Lucas discuss colleagues and Arthur does something altogether stupid.

Chapter 16

 

Ros was torn between being relieved and being livid. Those two feelings had been fighting for dominance ever since Jo’s first report and she still hadn’t decided on either one. On one hand she was ever so glad that Merlin and Jo had made it out unscathed. Both of them were back in Thames House. Jo had disappeared to the roof, visibly shaken by what had happened, but otherwise all right. Merlin and Arthur had been making up the moment Merlin set foot on the Grid. The king of Camelot had taken the news of Merlin’s magic better than anyone would have thought. Merlin had gone with some junior officer to clean up the girl he had brought with him and to find out who her family were. Arthur was now behind his temporary desk close to Lucas’s and Ben’s, trying to find that miserable excuse for a human being called Marlin.

The thought of his lies made her positively boiling with rage. That scum had lied to them, but that wasn’t was made her so angry. It wouldn’t be the first time an asset would provide them with false information and it was bound not to be the last time either. She was angry because she had believed Marlin, almost without question, even though she had felt there was something off. She had ignored Merlin’s suspicion, blinded by the magnitude of what Al-Qaeda was planning and now they were paying the price in the form of one dead CO19 officer and the mother of the child Merlin had brought with him. So much for making no more bloody mistakes. Marlin and Nadif had been playing them from the start and she had let them. Yep, she was definitely more angry now than anything else.

The whooshing of the pods demanded her attention and a slightly dishevelled Harry Pearce entered the Grid, looking as if he had been running all the way from wherever it was that he had disappeared to in the middle of a bloody operation.

 _Where the hell have you been?_ Knowing that it wasn’t fair to take out her anger on others, she swallowed it back however. ‘Two fatalities,’ she reported instead. ‘One of them ours and one civilian.’

‘Jo, Merlin?’ Oh yes, he was definitely worried.

‘Both still with us,’ she replied. _You should have been here_. She could only just keep herself from saying it.

‘What the hell happened?’ Harry started to sound extremely pissed off now that he had established that his officers were still alive and unscathed.

 _I might ask the same question of you_. ‘We got our Mr Big wrong.’ She was already short-tempered and the very thought of her own failure only increased it. ‘Nadif was set up by Marlin, Adam’s contact in Pakistani intelligence.’ _And I believed him, even when Merlin warned me about him._ Hopefully this would teach her to take that clumsy warlock seriously in future.

‘He’ll be halfway to Islamabad by now,’ Connie put in.

‘We’ll get him back,’ Harry promised. Ros knew him long enough to know that he meant that. There was no way he was letting Marlin get away with this.

‘Brilliant plan,’ Malcolm said from behind his computer screen. ‘MI-5 watches bombs being delivered, one of their own becomes suicide bomber.’ That would indeed have happened if they hadn’t found out that today wasn’t the dry run. _Well, look on the bright side: it could always have been worse._

‘We would never have recovered. We’d have become a byword for incompetence,’ Harry huffed.

But that wasn’t the point now, was it? ‘A bomb still went off,’ she pointed out, carefully avoiding meeting her boss’s eyes. And if she had been paying more attention, she might have prevented just that.

‘And three didn’t!’ Harry said forcefully, his eyes sparking with rage. But she could tell it wasn’t directed at her. ‘If you had panicked, then _all_ the bombs would have detonated: a massive propaganda victory for Al-Qaeda, as the security services are shown to be incapable of protecting their own citizens. That’s what they wanted, Ros, and that’s what we’ve stopped.’ The way he said it, he made it sound like she was to thank for the conclusion of a successful operation. Last she checked, she wasn’t.

‘Yeah, well, you try to explain that to that little girl Merlin just brought here. Her mother died because we couldn’t stop that bloody last bomb from exploding!’ Ros now exploded herself. It seemed only fitting.

‘Girl? What girl?’ Harry demanded, his already bad mood reaching a new low.

Lucas stepped in. ‘The little one Merlin saved in the market. Her mum died in the explosion, Harry,’ he explained. How that man could keep so calm in situations like this was beyond Ros, but it was a bit annoying when everyone else here was still so much on edge. ‘Merlin brought her in because we didn’t know what else to do with her. Connie’s trying to find out if she has any family around here.’

Harry’s facial colour resembled that of a traffic light. ‘We’re MI-5!’ he told them. ‘Not the sodding child day care! Get her out of here _now_!’

That was met by a muttered ‘Yes, Harry’ but Ros saw no one walk off to get the child. She decided not to comment on it. The girl had practically clung to Merlin as if her life depended on it, too afraid to let go. She had enough shocks and hurt for one day. Ros wasn’t sentimental, but this one had just been through a terrorist attack. She could take it easy, for now.

Harry hadn’t noticed the lack of action following his command. He just marched off to his office with a face that would send the bravest men run for the hills without hesitation. Something had vexed him, and Ros somehow doubted it was related to the operation. He had been acting weird ever since that morning, since he walked out in the middle of the operation. Even Malcolm, who knew Harry a lot longer than she did, had raised his eyebrows at that. No, something was wrong here.

But now was not the time. Now they had to deal with the aftermath of a bomb explosion and the very important question where Marlin had taken to hiding. And why? Why had he done this? Adam had sworn by him. The man had given them good information for years because he strongly disagreed with what Al-Qaeda did. So why this change of heart? Too many questions and far too few answers for her liking.

‘Hey, there.’ Lucas’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

‘Hey, yourself,’ she greeted.

‘I think I may have left my phone on your desk,’ he told her.

Ros beckoned at the desk. ‘Be my guest.’

She hadn’t meant that quite so literally, but Lucas obviously took it that way. He grabbed the phone and then perched himself on her desk. ‘Harry was right, you know. We’ve got nothing to reproach ourselves for.’ By the sound of it he even believed that.

 _Don’t we?_ ‘Yes, we do,’ she said forcefully. ‘Those bastards got one past us.’ Somehow she had ended up on her feet when she said that. Lucas looked at her quizzically and she threw in some kind of explanation. ‘Ever since I was a little girl I’ve been annoyingly competitive and perfectionist and that _really_ annoys me.’

Lucas chuckled, shoving the phone in the pocket of his trousers. ‘I bet it really annoys your friends as well.’

 _What friends?_ But she’d die before she’d say those words. Instead she settled for: ‘What was it you said to Marlin about friends? Overrated, I think it was.’ Come to think of it, Lucas didn’t seem to have many friends himself, despite the fact that he was so easy to get along with. Strange really.

He chuckled, but she could see he understood.

‘Not a big one for dinner parties myself,’ she admitted.

‘Colleagues, though?’ he pressed.

 _What the hell are you really asking here?_ But she kept her face blank and mildly amused as she replied. ‘Yeah,’ she nodded. ‘Lovers leave, friends annoy you and families mess with your head.’ _My lover died, my friends never existed and my family disowned me_. But that was just one of those things she would never ever say. ‘But colleagues are okay.’

Lucas nodded, but it seemed doubtful. ‘But are they to be trusted?’

Ros tried and failed not to frown. _What are you playing at?_ But she sure as hell wasn’t going to let her team down. ‘Yes, they are,’ she therefore replied decisively.

‘All of them?’

‘All of them.’ _For heaven’s sake, Lucas, just spit it out already!_

‘Even the most senior?’

So, that was what this was all about. Harry. Harry, who had behaved so strangely today. But that wasn’t bothering Lucas now, was it? ‘Particularly him,’ Ros said, looking him straight in the eye. ‘Harry sweated blood to get you back here. He’d rather die than let anything ever happen to you.’ _So if you even dare to suggest that he deliberately let you rot away in that Russian prison, I’ll make sure you’re decommissioned this very minute._

That had been spot on, she guessed. Lucas bowed his head, clearly processing it all. Ros waited, half expecting to have to explain to Harry why she decommissioned one of his best officers within five minutes, but when Lucas looked up again, he had a teasing smile on his face. ‘And how about the most ancient ones?’

Ros’s gaze wandered over to Arthur, who was writing something down and then marched off towards Harry’s office. Merlin just entered the Grid again, the girl still holding his hand. The warlock walked over to Connie’s desk and started to discuss something. She knew what it was that Lucas was asking and she knew they were good at this job, both of them, however reluctant she was to admit it.

‘Yes, them too.’

Lucas gave her that lopsided grin telling her everything was all right again. ‘Colleagues are okay,’ he confirmed. Then his eyes darted to the pods, that were just whooshing open, again. ‘Although, on second thought…’

Ros’s head swivelled in that direction immediately. _Shit._ Coming in, looking like he practically owned the place, was Richard Dolby, the real boss. _Oh, shit_.

 

***

 

Arthur was still trying to get over the fact that he had a sorcerer for a manservant, one who was apparently stupid enough to protect the son of the most magic-hating king the land had ever seen. Trust Merlin to do something that stupid. And he had a lot of questions, but they didn’t seem that urgent anymore, not now they had established that nothing would really change. Merlin was still his clumsy, name-calling self. Arthur didn’t know why, but somehow he had expected his servant to turn into an evil sorcerer, like all the others Arthur had ever encountered, the moment he found out about him. To now find that he hadn’t was a very reassuring idea.

And he felt pleased with himself, for not flying off the handle with Merlin, but also for his own contribution to the operation. It had been a difficult one and Arthur had personally made sure one of those bombs would never go off. So now he walked over to Harry’s office to ask him about some contact’s name of Marlin’s.

‘Is he busy?’ he asked Ben, who was just emerging from said office, in passing.

‘No, you can go straight in,’ he replied. ‘No need to knock, Arthur.’

It was good to be treated as one of them, he pondered. He remembered once getting really angry with the knights for giving him special treatment. Well, that was one thing that didn’t happen here. Sure, there were differences in status, but when it came down to it they were all colleagues and they all took risks, equal risks. Lucas was a senior officer, but he had been in as much potential danger as Jo, who was far less senior in rank. He really liked the idea of that. Maybe he should consider getting a round table of his own, like the one he had seen in the ruined castle more than a year ago.

He walked into Harry’s office without knocking. ‘Harry…’

He didn’t get any further. The head of Section D looked up from what he was doing and slammed his hand on the table, making a stack of paper fall off and several cups and glasses rattle. ‘Knock, people! Are you all suffering from amnesia?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Arthur said indignantly. ‘Ben said I could just go in…’ Oh. It dawned on him then. It had been a joke, like the knights did with the new recruits to welcome them properly into their ranks. Well, that meant they were at least looking at him as one of their own.

Harry was about to say something, but was stopped from that by the arrival of Ros Myers. ‘Problem, Harry,’ she announced.

‘I might start thinking about removing those doors, for all the good they seem to do,’ Harry remarked sarcastically. ‘What do you want, Rosalind?’

The woman pulled a face at the mention of her full name. ‘Richard Dolby’s here,’ she reported bluntly. ‘Lucas is trying to hold him up, but he’ll be here soon.’

Harry groaned as Arthur frowned. ‘Who is Richard Dolby?’

Ros’s smile was about as sincere as Harry’s love for politicians. ‘Our boss,’ she explained. ‘And he’s not pleased.’

The head of Section D got up. ‘Let’s go. You as well, Arthur.’

‘Where are we going?’ _Running away from the frightening Richard Dolby, whoever that was?_

‘If I know Dolby, the Home Office.’ Harry picked up his coat and marched out of his office, into the corridor, followed by Ros and Arthur.

They didn’t need to go far. They were hardly out of the office before another man in suit and tie and with a positively furious expression on his face came walking, or rather storming, at them. ‘Where the hell were you?’ he demanded of Harry. ‘An operation like that going down?’

‘Working,’ Harry replied evenly.

If he was hoping to calm the other man down, he was failing. ‘Oh?’ That tone reminded Arthur of the tone he always used when Merlin told him something he didn’t believe. ‘And you left _her_ in charge?’ Clearly he didn’t think very highly of Ros, something Arthur did not quite understand. True, she wasn’t easy to get along with, but she was a good officer and it was mostly thanks to her quick thinking that only one bomb had detonated.

Ros managed to smile at the arrogant prat, there really was no other word for it, even as her eyes looked daggers at him. ‘Starting to understand how the cat’s mother felt here.’

Dolby glared back at her.

‘Our intelligence told us that this would be a dry run,’ Harry clarified.

‘Well, your intelligence was wrong!’ Dolby pointed out and he seemed to take extreme pleasure in doing so, making Arthur dislike him almost immediately. Quite the achievement, because that didn’t happen often. His attitude reminded the king of the Home Secretary, although Richard Dolby seemed to have perfected it.

‘What happened?’ Dolby practically barked at the head of the section.

‘It’s not clear.’ Harry started to get annoyed now, too.

‘We are going in to see the Home Secretary.’ Dolby managed to make it sound like a threat. ‘ _It’s not clear_ won’t cut it!’ He was halfway to the exit before any of them could even react.

Ros raised her eyebrows. ‘Charming.’

That about summed it up to perfection.

Richard Dolby looked all too pleased with their supposed failure when he described it in detail to the Home Secretary. Arthur felt like being the bad boy being called to the carpet by his stern father all over again. This was not so different and the fact that Dolby was practically glowing with satisfaction didn’t do much to control Arthur’s temper. He knew he had to keep it in check here, but Dolby was trying his self-control pretty hard.

And after Dolby had gotten the umpteenth detail completely wrong, he snapped. ‘Do you even know what it is you are talking about?’ he demanded. ‘It’s not as if you were actually there.’

Dolby looked like he was choking, while Harry quickly averted his head to prevent anyone from seeing him laugh. Arthur suspected Harry of wanting Arthur to do exactly this. Last time he had let him say pretty much everything he wanted to say as well. Well, that was okay with the king, because there was quite a lot he wanted to say to this spy boss.

‘You don’t have the right!’ Dolby fumed.

That had been the wrong thing to say. ‘I have every right,’ he disagreed loudly. ‘Because I was there, out in the field, while you were in your comfortable office warming your feet by the fire, doing absolutely nothing. Are you even aware that one of my colleagues risked his life undercover and that one CO19 officer died trying to prevent a disaster from taking place right under your arrogant nose? And now you sit here pouring scorn on everything we have done today. Good grief, had I been home you would have been thrown in the dungeons ages ago!’

He only realised he had said a bit too much when both Dolby and the Home Secretary started staring at him and Harry and Ros looked at him as if they were wishing him a slow and painful death. He guessed Jo would have said ‘oops’ in this kind of situation. Oops seemed to be quite fitting now.

‘The point is,’ he continued, hoping to talk his way out of this. ‘We were out there, he wasn’t. So why, Mr Blake, don’t you let yourself being informed by the people who actually do know what they are talking about instead of people like him, who haven’t been out in the field for ages?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Dolby said indignantly.

‘So, you were there, Mr Parker?’ Nicholas Blake asked in a pleasant voice. His eyes, though, were wary. He had not yet forgotten what Arthur had said about dungeons.

But he could still pull this off. He had been in tight spots before and they had been a whole lot tighter than this one. And so he started telling what had really happened today, taking great pleasure himself in correcting the points where Dolby had been wrong. The spy boss pretended not to notice. Quite the contrary, by the time Arthur had concluded his tale he was looking as if his birthday had come early.

‘So, let me summarise this,’ he began. The tone in his voice alone was enough to give Arthur strange urges to challenge this man to a duel, or do something equally stupid. Apparently he wasn’t the only one. Ros’s hands had clenched into fists as well, even though her facial expression was still perfectly polite. ‘While the ultimate authority lies with the head of Section D, the operational running was of course handled by a senior security officer. So it would be unfair for any blame to be attached to Harry.’ Arthur got the impression somehow Dolby had a great dislike for Ros. He had no idea where that was coming from, but he was sure it was unfair.

‘Don’t you also think he’s referring to me there, Home Secretary?’ Ros asked in a friendly voice.

‘I think he might be,’ Blake nodded.

‘Ros…’ Harry and Arthur shot each other a strange look as they realised they had spoken simultaneously.

‘No, really, it’s fine.’ The way she said it strongly reminded Arthur of his own way of saying it, after which he would kindly list Merlin’s many duties for the day. ‘I was in charge of the operation. I don’t have a problem with that. I don’t expect gratitude.’ Meaningful look at Dolby. ‘And I certainly couldn’t care less about people’s opinion of me.’ By the end of that speech Blake was trying to mask his amusement, Harry looked thoroughly pleased and Dolby looked like he had just swallowed something very sour.

‘That has become increasingly apparent,’ he remarked.

Ros looked at him again. ‘So sack me. Get someone better to do the job.’

And Dolby remained silent.

That seemed to please Ros. ‘You can’t,’ she concluded. ‘So please let’s stop wasting time trying to find scapegoats. Our enemy is smart and if this were easy it could be dealt with by the number ten press office, am I right?’

And Blake nodded, a real smile on his face this time. ‘Which part of Harry did they use when they cloned you?’ he wondered.

Arthur had no idea what cloning was, but at least it seemed to clear the air. Almost every occupant of the room was smiling again, with one exception of course.

‘One of our officers risked his life on an undercover operation and two people died,’ Ros reported. ‘I think we can live with a few bad write-ups or the supercilious smirk from the officer class.’ That last line was of course directed at the boss. ‘It won’t be the last time Al-Qaeda will get one past us, but we’ll be better prepared next time.’

As Nicholas Blake started nodding again, it became too much for Dolby. ‘Home Secretary, I really must protest.’

‘Against what?’ Arthur knew he should have kept his mouth shut after his outburst just now. He had made one mistake and he couldn’t afford to make another. But he couldn’t remain silent either when that man started picking on a defenceless woman. Okay, so he knew Ros wasn’t defenceless, but he was raised to stand up for the ladies when they were assaulted, whether it was physically or verbally. And Dolby was definitely doing the latter. ‘Against us doing our job or against Ros doing her job? What is it that you hate so much about her anyway?’

That caused a few jaws to drop, including Ros’s. Unfortunately Dolby’s wasn’t among them. ‘I think you are forgetting yourself, Mr Parker. I am your superior officer and…’

This wasn’t smart. This really wasn’t smart and yet the words left his mouth without him giving them permission to do so. ‘No, you’re not.’

‘Officer Parker…’

‘Arthur Pendragon.’

Ros and Harry seemed to have stopped breathing. ‘Aidan, sit down,’ Harry hissed.

He had no idea when he had ended up on his feet and to be quite honest, he didn’t care. This man was deliberately targeting Ros and he wouldn’t stand for it, neither as king nor as colleague. And if he needed to reveal his identity in order to stop Dolby from undermining a perfectly capable officer, whose efforts had made sure three bombs had not gone off, then that was what he would do.

‘That’s not my name,’ he heard himself say. ‘My name is Arthur Pendragon. I am the king of Camelot and I do not answer to the likes of you, who sit back and do nothing while their kingdom is in danger, only to undermine the people who did the dirty work after the job is done.’

It became silent after that announcement. Very silent. Everyone stared at him and not in a good way. Arthur was almost grateful when his phone started singing something about “we are the champions” which, according to Lucas, meant someone was calling him. And thanks to his study of the manual he knew exactly how to deal with that.

With all those present still staring at him, Arthur dug his phone out of the pocket of his trousers and studied the display. _Merlin calling_. Somehow he didn’t think it would be a social call.

‘Arthur Pendragon speaking,’ he said after pressing the right button (the green one, not the red). He had heard his new colleagues do it. Hopefully he would do this right, since this was the first time he had a conversation on the phone himself.

‘It’s Merlin,’ his manservant said.

He hesitated for a moment before acknowledging his friend, but the secret was out now. He might as well do it thoroughly. ‘Merlin, what’s the problem this time?’ Because that was the only reason people ever called around here, wasn’t it? To report problems.

And as soon as Merlin answered that question, he started wishing he had never picked up the phone in the first place. ‘Morgana,’ Merlin replied.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

 

Merlin, Lucas and Ben had positioned themselves in front of a lot of screens, accompanied by lots of coffee, scanning the CCTV footage to search for any sign of Marlin on it. Lucas had reasoned he might have been close to the explosion and therefore it was necessary to check the security cameras that were hanging near the attack sites. That had sounded like a brilliant plan, until Merlin realised just how many cameras there were. _This is hopeless_.

The girl he had saved was curled up on a nearby swivel chair, thumb in her mouth, sleeping. Merlin was happy to take the risk of Harry’s fury, but he just couldn’t let that kid go, not when she had been making such a scene when Connie had only mentioned it.

‘You can’t let her stay here, Merlin,’ Lucas had told him, not unfriendly. ‘This is no place for a child.’

Merlin had nodded. ‘I know. But until we know where she does belong, where else is she going to go?’

He felt responsible for the child now. They had found out her name was Lia Harris, but not much else. Connie had been searching for her family, but nothing had come up yet. The girl had been tired and panicked and had refused to be taken from Merlin’s side ever since he had picked her up from the street. It was kind of ironic, he guessed, since he had failed to see the mother as well as the daughter and as a result of that, Lia’s mother was no more.

‘He’s got to be somewhere,’ he muttered under his breath.

‘Logic would dictate so,’ Lucas agreed. ‘But then, logic would also dictate that you can’t actually be here.’

At that moment Lucas’s mobile started to produce noise. The dark-haired spook snatched the device from the desk and answered it. The next moment his eyes widened. ‘Marlin.’ The tone in his voice suggested that he would love to have the other man for lunch. ‘All right.’ He ended the call.

‘What?’ Merlin spluttered. ‘He called?’ Was that man suicidal?

‘He wants to talk to me,’ the senior officer announced.

‘What are you going to do?’ Ben asked.

Lucas’s smile was almost creepy. ‘Talk to him. Coming, Merlin?’

Merlin frowned. ‘Shouldn’t we be asking Harry’s permission or something?’ he wondered, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. Marlin had been trying to murder dozens of people only hours ago and Merlin wasn’t that sure that talking to him was the best course of action, at all.

‘Harry is in a meeting,’ Lucas pointed out. ‘We can handle this.’ His mouth may be smiling, but his eyes most definitely were not. There was a cold in them, a freezing rage that made Merlin glad they were on the same side.

‘You’re not afraid he will try and kill us?’ he asked for good measure. Not that he thought there was much of a risk. Merlin was by now well aware that his magic could keep both of them safe easily enough. In truth, he wondered if it shouldn’t be Marlin he should be worrying about, especially as he saw Lucas take a gun with him.

‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ the spook said, not sounding concerned in the least. ‘He has nothing to gain from killing us. He knows that after what he has done, there’ll be nowhere left for him to run. No, my guess is that he will try to make a deal with us.’

Even though he could already guess the answer, he still asked: ‘And are you going to let him?’

They had arrived in the car park by now. Lucas unlocked the car, a big black one, as he threw Merlin a disbelieving look. ‘What did you think?’ he snorted.

Merlin thought that Marlin might be in some amount of danger. Lucas kept his eyes on the road as they drove down to the meeting place, but his hands held the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Underneath the calm and even sarcastic spook was a whole lot of rage boiling and the warlock couldn’t find it in himself to blame him for that. He only had to close his eyes to see that day’s events all playing out before him again, to be dragged back to that square after the bomb had gone off. Every detail was burned in his memory; the unnatural position of the CO19 officer, Lia’s dead mother, the smell that had made him want to throw up where he stood. The ringing in his ears was dying away. At least he could ignore it now.

And Marlin had done this. For one reason or another, he had made this happen. And that still didn’t make any sense at all. Ros had told him that Marlin had been working with them for years, helping MI-5 to prevent events like this from happening. For him to be the mastermind behind such an attack himself was out of character. Even Merlin, who hadn’t known the Pakistani for long, could tell that.

And he could also tell that Lucas didn’t care. He was just angry, although he knew how to disguise it well. It were the little things that gave it away; the icy cold in his eyes, his hands shoved deep inside the pockets of his jackets and the too relaxed posture as he leaned against the column at the meeting place.

This place was cold and stormy now, much like it had been the first time he had been here, waiting for the same man to make an appearance. It felt strange to remember that meeting was only a day ago. To Merlin it felt like it was another lifetime. So much had happened since then and he had seen more than he ever wanted to see.

Merlin heard the Pakistani before he saw him and he turned around to meet the other man’s eyes. The warlock was shocked to find that they were remarkably empty, the man’s expression undecided. He was still in suit and tie and as composed as the first time.

‘You came alone?’ he asked them. ‘Or is there a sniper with a beat on me right now?’ He didn’t even care anymore, Merlin realised. He talked as if he were already dead. And the lifelessness in his eyes only confirmed that theory. _What happened to you to make you like this?_

‘We came alone,’ Lucas replied. He had himself firmly under control again. Not an ounce of anger seeped through in his voice.

‘Because you know that one way or another I’m a dead man.’ Marlin sounded resigned, Merlin decided. He had accepted that he didn’t have long to live anymore.

‘Because I knew that if you arranged to meet and you kept your appointment, you had no intention of running anywhere,’ Lucas corrected. He still hadn’t really looked at the Pakistani, but the tension was there. Merlin could feel it.

‘Where’s Nadif?’ Marlin demanded.

This was what made Lucas turn around in the end, facing the other man with that same creepy smile Merlin had seen before, the one that made even him want to run for cover without a moment’s hesitation. He could only imagine the effects of it on Marlin, who by now definitely was branded an enemy. ‘Oh, he’s in a very bad and dark place of course. It was very clever of you, to make us think he was the Mr Big.’ Even though this mistake had cost two people their lives, there was some admiration to be heard as well. Both of them were spies and one of them had outwitted the other at the game. Being one himself, Merlin could understand it. But both Lucas and Merlin were more furious than anything else, although there was a feeling, a small voice in the back of his head that told him that there was more to this, that they were still overlooking something, something that was somehow important for them, if only to make them understand today’s catastrophe.

Marlin snorted. ‘Do you think I am the Mr Big?’ He shook his head. ‘It’s just one doll, inside another, inside another.’

Merlin’s mind was working at top speed. Three dolls, Marlin had said, and therefore three layers, if he had been listening right. Nadif would have been the first one, the outer doll, and then came Marlin, and then someone who they had not yet heard about.

Lucas didn’t care. ‘Well, you’re big enough for now,’ he told the Pakistani, clearly with every intent to get that last name out of him as soon as he got him into an interrogation room. ‘I can’t let you go.’

‘I am no longer a part of any of this.’ Meaning: _I have nothing to tell you anymore_. And Merlin didn’t believe that for a second. ‘I didn’t join them because I believe in what they’re doing.’ In fact he looked downright disgusted now, which was the only emotion that he had shown since the start of the meeting.

And Merlin just asked the question that he had been dying to ask ever since he had found out that it had been Marlin that had been behind the attack. ‘Then why?’ he demanded. ‘Why did you do it?’

Those cold, no, _dead_ eyes now settled on him. ‘My family. They got to my family. I would do anything to protect my family from harm.’ And he had certainly done just that. He had even gone as far as to blow up other people to protect them.

And in that moment it came all together, everything, all of it. _You can only trust your family_. That was what he had said at that first meeting. He had given them the biggest hint he could have possibly given them and they had completely overlooked it, until now. All that nonsense about not putting faith in friends, not trusting anyone, that had not been nonsense at all. As far as he could he had really given them a warning. It was them that had failed to see it for what it was.

But it still didn’t make sense. Who had gotten to his family? Al-Qaeda? He had voiced that question before he had even given himself permission to do so.

Marlin laughed humourlessly. ‘Is that what you think?’ he asked. ‘That Al-Qaeda is behind this?’

Lucas shook his head, understanding in his eyes as well. ‘That’s too subtle for them,’ he agreed. ‘Question remains, who made you do this?’ The anger was still there, but it was better controlled now, banished temporarily by the need to find out who really was behind this.

‘You would not believe me.’ Marlin shook his head. ‘And I can’t risk my family’s lives for this.’ He opened his jacket to reveal the gun he had slipped into the waistband of his pants, slipping his fingers around it, pulling it free. ‘This is the only way I can protect them now.’ What on earth was he going to do? ‘Goodbye, my friends.’

And then Merlin understood. Marlin brought the gun to his head. Lucas started forward, but the warlock knew that he would be too late, no matter what he did. Marlin had kept his distance from them and now he was too far away to do anything to save the Pakistani.

Lucas was decidedly too far away, but Merlin was not. Time slowed, and Merlin jumped forward, yanking Marlin’s arm in the other direction. He could hear the bang of the explosion as the gun went off and he could feel the bullet rushing past only inches from his head.

And then time went back to his usual pace and the almost namesakes crashed to the ground together. Marlin landed on his back, hurting his head as it collided with the stone floor. Merlin landed on the Pakistani’s stomach, his hands still gripping the spy’s wrists, keeping the gun away from Marlin’s head. They needed that information and they wouldn’t get it from a dead informant, that was for sure.

But Marlin had no intention of doing such a stupid thing again. He stared at Merlin, his jaw dropped and Merlin realised just a second too late that his eyes must have flashed gold, as they always did when he was using magic. That was twice today that he had revealed his secret. Keep this up and the entire population of London would know by the end of the week.

‘Who are you?’ Marlin eyed him with suspicion and fear.

Well, there was no point in hiding anymore. His secret was out, again. ‘I’m Merlin,’ he said, trying to sound as low and threatening as he could. ‘Now tell me: who are they?’

‘The American,’ the Pakistani admitted. ‘Someone called Hogan.’

Lucas cursed, loudly. The name meant clearly more to him than it did to Merlin.

But there was more, there had to be. Merlin had learned something about the Americans, enough to know that they could indeed be quite frightening, although he couldn’t understand for the life of him why they would support a terrorist attack. There had to be something, or someone, else.

‘Who else?’ he demanded.

‘A woman,’ Marlin replied hastily. ‘I don’t know her name!’

A cold shiver had gone down Merlin’s spine. He had this funny feeling that this was boding ill for all of them. ‘Describe her to me.’

Marlin was still too impressed by Merlin’s magic to even think about resisting. ‘Green eyes, pale skin, black hair. She…’ Here he hesitated. ‘She could do what you did as well.’

Merlin let go off the man as if he had physically hit him. There was only one person who would fit that description. ‘Morgana,’ he hissed through clenched teeth.

 

***

 

Ros had frozen into her chair the moment Arthur had given them all his real name, but that was nothing compared to Dolby and Blake. Ros actually had the great satisfaction of seeing Dolby being struck speechless and Blake looking like he was choking, which would have been amusing, had the situation not been so serious. And now Arthur had also blown Merlin’s cover wide open. Had that man not yet learned the meaning of secrecy at all?

But whatever it was that Merlin was telling him, it had temporarily made him unable to speak. In fact, all the blood seemed to have drained from his face. Ros used that opportunity to literally grab him by the collar and drag him to the door before he could do any more damage.

‘Outside you!’ she hissed. It would be up to Harry to contain the problem. He clearly couldn’t say that Arthur wasn’t in his right mind, although Ros wasn’t actually so sure about that one. The king hadn’t talked like a lunatic, but he sure as hell was behaving like one right now.

She slammed the door shut behind him. ‘What is the bloody matter with you?’ she demanded, grabbing the phone, barking an ‘I’ll call you back ASAP’ into it and then turning it off. She could all too easily picture Merlin’s confused face at that, but she couldn’t care less. ‘Do you have any idea what the word secret even means?’

The king glared back at her, his arms folded across his chest, completely unyielding. ‘He was assaulting you,’ he informed her. ‘And it was my duty to stand up for you.’

 _God save me from the knights in shining armour._ ‘That was not your duty,’ she told him. ‘It is not in the job description. You are not in Camelot anymore. Women here can hold their own.’ A small part of her was touched. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had done that for her. Oh, hang a second, actually she could. Lucas had done the same thing in the village near the forest where they had found Arthur and Merlin. _Another one with shining armour issues._

‘It was necessary,’ Arthur simply stated. Clearly he believed that he had done the right thing.

That stupid touched part of her made her next words a little less harsh that she had actually intended them. ‘No, you _thought_ it was necessary,’ she corrected him. ‘But what you did is that you completely blew both Merlin and your covers. The point of changing your sodding identities was that no one would find out about you. Do you have any idea how much damage you have just caused? Legendary kings and wizards aren’t supposed to turn up in modern day London. You are supposed to be _dead_. How on earth do you think we can even begin to explain your presence here?’

That seemed to wake him up. ‘I hadn’t thought about that.’

 _So I noticed_. ‘Well, try to contain your inner gentleman in future, will you?’ The remark wasn’t quite as snappy as she meant it to be. ‘Harry may just be able to minimalize the damage this time, but we can’t have you blow your covers anywhere else, not again.’

Arthur’s blue eyes suddenly got a bit panicked, but had also determined expression in them. ‘We may not have to worry about covers for much longer.’ Was it just her imagination or was he actually scared?

Ros suddenly remembered that Arthur had gone awfully quiet after something Merlin had told him. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Morgana is here.’

It were only three words, but they made the world turn upside down in a matter of seconds. Ros’s first instinct was to start complaining about yet another legendary figure let loose on the streets of London. As if two of them weren’t enough! It was only then that the name truly registered in her mind: Morgana, also known as Morgan Le Fay. And if legend actually got one thing right (she was at a point that she was seriously starting to doubt just that) that was a sworn enemy of Camelot _. So what the hell is she doing here? Wasn’t that portal supposed to be a_ secret _portal?_

‘Give me your phone,’ she demanded, slipping into commander mode. No matter what else this was, it was first and foremost a crisis and it would be Ros’s duty to deal with that before anything else. She was not yet done scolding the king for his foolish behaviour, but it would have to wait.

‘Arthur?’ Merlin’s voice asked after the first time the phone had rang. He must have been close to it.

‘No, it’s Ros,’ she announced. ‘What on earth is going on there? I thought you were trying to locate Marlin?’

‘We were,’ the warlock confirmed. ‘But he called Lucas and arranged a meet. He told us that “they” got to his family.’

‘Oh, please, don’t tell me you actually believed that?’ Merlin was a good spy, she would not deny that, but he certainly was too naïve for his own good from time to time.

Merlin actually ignored the tone. ‘It wasn’t Al-Qaeda. He tried to commit suicide because he was afraid for his family, Ros. Lucas and I, we stopped him from doing that and I may have used magic to achieve it.’

And here was another one who needed a lesson in the meaning of secrecy. ‘What were you thinking?’ she exploded.

‘Well, that isn’t the point,’ the warlock said impatiently. ‘He told me that his family had been captured by two people, one of them a woman. He didn’t know her name, but he described her to me and he mentioned that she could do what I did as well.’

‘Please don’t tell me we’ve got another legendary figure walking around here?’ That question was of course rhetorical. Ros had long since stopped thinking of anything as impossible, roughly around the time that she discovered that she had arrested Arthur Pendragon and Merlin. ‘You mentioned two people. Who is the other?’ _Do I even want to know?_

Merlin seemed to hesitate. ‘Marlin said it was an American man,’ he replied after a long pause. ‘Lucas seemed to know about him…’

 _Spit it out already, will you?_ ‘The name?’ she asked sharply.

‘He only had a surname. Someone called Hogan, he said.’

Had she thought the world had already turned upside down? How wrong had she been. A cold shiver went down her spine as she heard Merlin mention that name, completely unaware of the impact it made on the Section Chief. ‘Bob bloody Hogan,’ she hissed through clenched teeth. ‘All right, get yourselves back to the Grid as soon as you can and put Marlin in an interrogation room. We’ll talk to him later. Tell Lucas to red-flash the entire team. Got that?’

Merlin obviously didn’t think it wise to argue now. ‘Got it.’

Ros hung up on him without as much as a greeting. Now wasn’t the time for pleasantries. Morgana out on the streets was unfortunate, possibly even dangerous, but they could come up with an explanation for that. She could just have discovered the portal by accident. The fact that she was apparently working together with a man who _should_ have been in a prison in the United States however changed everything. Because this should not be possible. The CIA had taken Hogan from their reach, but since his actions had seriously damaged the relationship between the United States and the United Kingdom, Ros had assumed he would have disappeared behind bars for the rest of his life. Clearly he had not, or else he would not be here wreaking havoc, working together with Al-Qaeda and the most feared witch in the history of mankind of all things.

Unfortunately, the rest of the story, the part that explained how he had gotten Marlin and Al-Qaeda involved in his little revenge scheme, because Ros was sure that was what it was, made perfect sense. Marlin had given information to more services than just MI-5, the CIA among them. For the ex-CIA man it would have been a piece of cake to get into contact with his old asset and pull off this operation.

So far she could get it, but how had Morgana gotten involved? She could not even begin to understand how that was even possible, but she vowed that she would make it her personal responsibility to find out, as well as take down Bob Hogan for once and for all.

‘Wait here,’ she ordered Arthur.

She marched back to the office and walked in without knocking. Harry was still trying to convince Blake and Dolby that this was not what it seemed and both men still seemed to be in a shock. Good thing too. At least it kept them silent for a while.

Ros ignored them, addressing Harry directly. ‘We’ve got to go,’ she said bluntly.

Harry glared at her for interrupting. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘We’ve got a big problem,’ she told him. _And that is most likely the understatement of the century._


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana starts running amok.

**Chapter 18**

 

A fist was slammed on the meeting room’s table with considerable force, making the cups on it rattle. ‘What the hell is going on here?’ You didn’t need to be an expert on Harry Pearce’s moods to know that he was angry and dangerously so. ‘ _He_ is telling me that Morgana is on the loose in London,’ a finger was pointed in Arthur’s direction, ‘and now _you_ ’re telling me Bob Hogan is causing chaos as well.’ This time it was Ros that was on the receiving end of Harry’s glare.

‘It is both true, Harry,’ the Section Chief replied. Arthur greatly admired her ability to remain calm in the face of such a crisis. ‘According to Marlin, they are working together.’

Harry’s next bang on the table made one cup actually topple over. It crashed to the ground, shattering in hundreds of pieces. ‘And would that be the same Marlin that lied to us about today’s attack being a dry run, Rosalind?’

‘It makes sense,’ Merlin cut in, earning him Arthur’s respect for doing such a thing in the face of the section head’s fury. ‘Marlin described her to me. There is no way that woman can be any other than Morgana.’

‘I am sure there are countless women out there who look exactly like the woman that bloody traitor described,’ Harry said dismissively. ‘Any other ideas?’

‘I don’t think we should rule out Russian involvement,’ Connie spoke up.

She was slapped down as well, by Ros this time. ‘Can we leave the sodding Russians alone for once, Connie?’ She was not as angry as her boss, but Arthur could tell she was on edge, very much like she had been right before the operation that had only been concluded hours ago. ‘That woman is probably Morgana. If Merlin says so, I tend to believe him.’

Arthur was obviously not the only one taken aback by that vote of confidence. Judging from the faces around him it was very unusual for this woman to ever put her faith in anyone, let alone someone as new to the team as Merlin.

‘I am sure it is her,’ Merlin repeated. ‘Marlin told me she could do magic. From what I gather there aren’t any people left who can do that these days.’ The sorcerer’s expression turned sad as he said that.

‘But how can she be in league with Bob Hogan?’ Jo spoke the name as if it was some kind of contagious disease, something poisonous even. Arthur had never heard of someone called that, but whoever it was clearly had some kind of history with MI-5. Ben looked disgusted, Connie disapproving, Harry furious and Ros’s hands had been clenched into fists. Lucas appeared to be the only one other than Merlin and himself not knowing who the mysterious Bob Hogan was.

‘I think she might have dreamed about him,’ Merlin spoke up after a lengthy silence. ‘Morgana is a seer.’ That earned him a lot of confused looks from the rest of the team. ‘It means that she can see the future in her dreams,’ he clarified. ‘Her finding the portal might not have been a coincidence either, not with her powers anyway.’

That had struck Harry speechless for a while.

‘But how did she get Hogan to cooperate?’ Lucas asked. The spook’s eyes were alert, the expression on his face one of concentration and determination. Not for the first time Arthur noticed how devoted he was to his job. It was almost as if he had nothing else to live for. And the same was true for Ros and Harry.

‘Revenge on us, hunger for power, or money.’ Ros shrugged. ‘You name it. Hogan was a bastard long before today.’ To this Jo nodded fervently.

‘So, we think they work together for power?’ Ben summarised.

And Harry’s fist came down on the table again. ‘We think? We _think_? Are we playing Guess Who? We are bloody MI-5, people! We _know_!’

But at the moment they knew nothing, nothing at all, apart from what Marlin had told them and they all knew it. Well, at least that was one thing they could know, even if it wasn’t the most cheerful realisation in the world.

‘So, what do you suggest we do then?’ Lucas demanded, angered by Harry’s outburst. ‘Do you want us to sit back and wait while they wreak more havoc or do you want us to get off our bloody backsides and do everything in our power to find them?’

Harry’s face started to look a colour remarkably close to purple, so Ros took it upon herself to step in. ‘Right, Malcolm, try to find anything you can about Hogan’s recent whereabouts. Connie, you assist him. Ben, I want you to arrange a meet with the CIA people. We need to know how far they are involved in this. They might know nothing…’

‘Or they’re in this up to their eyeballs,’ Lucas finished.

Ros nodded. ‘Or even further,’ she remarked dryly. Arthur got the feeling she wasn’t particularly fond of the CIA, and neither was the rest of the team. ‘In the meantime I’ll need the two of you to tell us everything about Morgana that might possibly be of relevance.’

It was silent as the three people who had already been assigned tasks left the meeting room. Arthur searched his memory for facts about his half-sister that could possibly be of use to them in finding out what she was up to and where she might be hiding. The frown in Merlin’s forehead told him that his manservant was doing the very same thing.

‘Morgana fears me,’ the warlock suddenly spoke up.

Arthur’s head swivelled in Merlin’s direction, as did every other head in the room. ‘I _beg_ your pardon? Does she know about your magic?’ _And to think that she found out even earlier than I did._

‘No,’ Merlin said immediately. ‘Or yes, but she doesn’t know that it is me.’

What on earth was he really saying here? ‘Merlin, feel free to start making sense any time now.’ The spooks were also thoroughly confused looking by now.

‘She knows me by my disguise,’ Merlin clarified. ‘I tend to disguise myself as an old man whenever I need to do something and I can’t be recognised.’

A few more dots started to make a connection. If he wasn’t careful that was all he was doing today. ‘Hang on, you’re Dragoon the Great?’ Now that Merlin told him it was all rather obvious. They had the same eyes and the same disrespect for all royalty. Still it wasn’t nice to have been insulted by his very own manservant in disguise. ‘So you think you could actually get away with calling me a spoilt arrogant prat with the face of a donkey and the brains of a toad?’

Merlin looked surprised. ‘You actually remember that?’

Harry’s fist collided with the table again. ‘Focus, people!’

‘Right,’ Merlin said. ‘Well, the point is that someone apparently told her the name the Druids know me by and she thinks that my old man disguise is actually him, Emrys. She hasn’t realised yet that he is also me. So we might be able to use that.’

‘And she wouldn’t think it strange to see her archenemy walking around in London?’ Ros inquired sarcastically.

‘She thinks Emrys is haunting her every step,’ Merlin shot back, making Arthur wonder what else he had missed out on. ‘And if it comes to a duel I know I can win.’

Arthur frowned, not liking the sound of this. ‘And how exactly would you be so sure about that, _Mer_ lin?’ he demanded. ‘It’s not like you have ever really fought her, _have_ you?’

The warlock didn’t meet his eyes as he replied. ‘Well, about that…’ His voice trailed off. ‘I may have encountered her as Dragoon the Great and we fought and I kind of won, so I guess…’

‘You _fought_ Morgana? And you _won_?’ Arthur was trying to determine which of those two surprised him more. ‘Is there something else you may have forgotten to tell me as well?’

Merlin offered him a wide smile. ‘Ehm, I knocked you out with magic, stole your keys with magic and I may have stolen your dinner once as well, using magic.’

Arthur’s jaw dropped. ‘ _What_?’

Lucas coughed, although Arthur strongly suspected him to be laughing. He had his head turned in the other direction, so it was hard to make out.

‘That’s enough,’ Harry told them. The head of the section was actually looking nervous, so Arthur stored away the questions he by now was dying to ask away.

That of course was the moment everything went dreadfully wrong. The doors were opened by Ben. The young man’s features were looking positively distressed. ‘I think you had better come and see this.’

 

***

 

Seeing the video for the third time didn’t make it any easier to watch, Merlin decided. His eyes were fixed on the television screen on the Grid, trying to make sense of what he saw. There was an annoying female voice commenting on the things that happened on the screen, but Merlin took no notice, not really anyway.

All he could see now was the woman that had positioned herself in front of the cameras in front of the now no longer existing Tube station. The news item had been dealing with something Merlin couldn’t quite recall anymore, something about the tubes being under construction. That had abruptly finished as the woman dressed in black in the background had interrupted. Her eyes had flashed gold and then the place just exploded, causing the camera to black out. The warlock was surprised the camera had even survived the explosion.

The rest of the team was standing there in shocked silence, too shocked to speak or do anything else besides staring at the screen in pure disbelief.

Harry was the first one to break the silence. ‘Please tell me I didn’t just see a woman blowing up a London tube station on my television.’ The sarcasm was too obvious to miss.

Merlin tried to show some kind of smile in order to break the tension, even when he hadn’t felt so miserable in days. ‘Ehm, you didn’t?’

It didn’t work. It only made the section head look like he was about to explode, again. ‘Do you want to get taken out and shot?’ he demanded.

‘No thanks,’ he muttered.

‘Thought so. Play that back.’

Nobody dared to refuse. Merlin didn’t feel the need to watch it a fourth time, but he told himself that this was really not the time to behave like a child. This was dead serious and for all intents and purposes he was a member of this team now. And now that Morgana was involved, there was just no way he would be going back to Camelot.

Arthur, however, was another matter entirely. The king needed to get out of here, as soon as possible too. If Morgana found out that Arthur was here, that was if she hadn’t already, there would be hell to pay.

He looked at the screen, trying to see something they had not already seen, even though Merlin could picture all the details inside his head. First the reporter talking, then Morgana walking into sight, that smirk on her face, the ice in her eyes, looking right at the camera. Then her eyes would flash gold and the screen would fill with visions of smoke and rubble, very much like the market place he had been in today.

‘Stop,’ Harry ordered just before Morgana had the chance to blow up the entire station again. ‘Malcolm, can you enhance the face of that man in the background? Just behind Morgana?’ Well, at least the head of Section D didn’t doubt any longer that the woman they were looking at was Morgana. Even if he hadn’t been told by Marlin that she was here, Merlin would have recognised her, and so would Arthur. In fact the king had gone into a full-blown tantrum the moment he had seen who was the person responsible for all that destruction, all those dead people…

He blocked it out. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if he started wallowing in grief and guilt. Instead he focused on the face of the man Malcolm was now trying to make better visible. Merlin had no idea what exactly he did with the picture but it suddenly appeared on the screen, looking much better than it had before. This was the kind of picture you could actually recognise someone from.

The man they were looking at was probably around Harry’s age, bordering on fat, with cunning light-coloured eyes. If anything, Merlin would say there was evil lurking in those eyes. This man was intelligent, he guessed.

‘Bob Bloody Hogan,’ Ros hissed, speaking the name as if it was some kind of poison.

‘Wait, the one Marlin mentioned?’ Merlin cut in. ‘What’s he doing here?’

‘He holds us responsible for ending his career with the CIA,’ Connie told him, looking rather indignant. ‘He made up for it by helping a criminal group abduct some of our officers.’

Merlin’s head swivelled in Jo’s direction. He remembered Jo telling him last night that she had been abducted by some kind of criminal group. Bob Hogan was the missing piece in that puzzle.

She caught him looking and gave a barely visible nod in confirmation.

‘What?’ Arthur exclaimed. ‘Then why isn’t he locked up? Surely the Americans would have had him thrown in prison for that?’

That were Merlin’s thoughts exactly. He had heard bits and pieces about the CIA and the United States so far, enough to know that nobody here was particularly fond of either of them. Ros especially seemed to have taken a strong dislike towards them, for reasons he could not yet understand. Something had happened in the past, but Ros was about as open as a stubborn oyster, so he didn’t think he would ever find out, unless Jo felt up to sharing again.

Harry’s eyes were sparking with righteous rage. ‘That’s what I want to know as well.’ If that glare had the power to kill through the screen, that would have saved them a lot of trouble, because both Morgana and Hogan would be dead in that case. One might think that angry and grumpy was Harry Pearce’s default setting, but Merlin was used to dealing with Arthur Pendragon. The king was often moody and irritable, especially in crisis situations (and just after sunrise as a rule), but when it came down to it, his first concern was the safety of his people. It struck Merlin that both leaders were very much alike in that respect.

‘What do you want us to do, Harry?’ Lucas asked. He stood a little further off, arms crossed over his chest. The spook had that look in his eyes that said he would like to do nothing more than to kill Morgana and Hogan on the spot and be done with it. Once again the warlock made a mental note never to underestimate this man. Lucas usually came across as a charming, easy-going kind of fellow, but there was a lot of hurt, anger and resentment lying underneath the surface, only showing in situations like these.

‘You go and find out where the hell our dynamic duo is hiding out,’ Harry ordered. He then turned towards Arthur. ‘How do you feel about being a liaison officer with the CIA for the next few days?’

Arthur clearly hadn’t seen that one coming. ‘Eh…’ was the very intelligent sounding reply that came out in the end.

‘It involves lots of shouting,’ Harry told the king. ‘You were made for the job.’

‘But he can’t stay,’ Merlin interjected. ‘Morgana is here now. We need to get him out of the way before she can get to him.’

All heads now swivelled in Merlin’s direction. ‘Since when are you so concerned about my wellbeing, _Mer_ lin?’ Arthur demanded.

Merlin stared back at his king stubbornly. ‘Since it’s my destiny to protect you.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Arthur shouted.

‘Long story,’ Merlin muttered. ‘The point is that you are the king of Camelot, you should have been back home almost two days ago and now Morgana is here. As soon as she finds out you’re here as well, she’ll certainly try to kill you. You’ll need to return to Camelot as soon as possible.’

Arthur was about to protest this, but then Ros nodded. ‘He’s right. The king will attract far too much attention here. He’ll draw that bloody witch straight to us.’

Lucas shook his head. ‘She may very well know already,’ he argued. ‘Why else would she have allied herself with a man who lives to get his revenge on MI-5? She doesn’t know us personally and there must be a reason why she does what she is currently doing.’

Merlin privately agreed with Ros, but Lucas had a point as well.

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Arthur stubbornly stated. ‘If it’s me Morgana is after, we stand a much better chance of catching her here than in Camelot. Let’s face this, Merlin, we do have better means to find and defeat her than we will ever have in Camelot. We cannot afford to let her slip through our fingers now.’

Since when did Arthur know how to make sense? ‘What will happen in Camelot without you?’ he shot back. _What will Agravaine do now that Arthur is out of the picture for a while?_ ‘There is still a traitor in Camelot who might take advantage of your absence.’

Arthur raised his eyebrows. ‘Big words, Merlin. Do you even know what they mean?’

‘It means that you’re being a dollophead, as usual, not seeing that in Camelot you’re probably seen as missing now and there are probably a lot of people who are going to use that.’ Why couldn’t Arthur just understand that?

‘And you have no intention of going back with me,’ Arthur understood. ‘Forget it, Merlin. We’ll deal with Morgana. We just send a message to the council telling them things took longer than we thought. Agravaine will take good care of the kingdom until we return.’ That was his king’s voice and Merlin knew him long enough there would be no arguing now.

 _Oh, Agravaine will take care of the kingdom, just not the way you want to_. ‘And how am I supposed to send a message?’ he demanded.

Arthur snorted. ‘Are you a sorcerer or not? Figure something out.’ And, spotting Merlin’s still clueless face, he added: ‘Don’t they have carrier pigeons here?’

‘We do,’ Jo nodded.

‘Although I doubt they know the way to Camelot,’ Merlin finished.

Arthur looked at him as if he was the most stupid person on earth. ‘You _are_ a sorcerer, right?’ This was followed by an annoyed snort. ‘Can’t you just enchant it to fly in the right direction?’

Merlin had become used to dealing with surprises, but hearing Arthur talk about his magic so casually, almost as if it were normal, that beat it all. ‘You… you want me to use magic?’ he stammered. He knew Arthur had accepted or at the very least tolerated the fact that he had magic, but he hadn’t seemed all that enthusiastic about it all just now, in the meeting. The fact that Arthur was now more or less ordering him to do magic was a completely new experience for him.

The snort that the king let out was now more impatient than annoyed. ‘Yes, _Mer_ lin, or are you deaf as well as dumb?’

Some people might have taken this as an insult, but Merlin recognised it for what it was: the full acceptance of his magic and his king’s permission to actively use it. His face split in a wide grin that not even Morgana could take from him.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All in all there's a lot of trouble with the Americans.

**Chapter 19**

 

The king of Camelot had visibly trouble controlling his reactions to modern day transport. Arthur Pendragon looked kind of sick and he was staring right ahead.

‘If you’ll vomit over me, I swear you’ll be back in that bloody cell before you can say Camelot,’ Ros warned him.

The only reply was by way of a glare, before the king directed his attention towards Harry. ‘Where exactly are we going?’

Harry’s smile was positively triumphant. ‘To the supposedly secret CIA office. We’re there now.’

Ros could feel her stomach twitch uneasily. This would be the first time since her reinstatement that she would really deal with the service she had not so long ago effectively vexed. Whilst knowing she had gone about it in all the wrong ways, she knew she had done it for all the right reasons. She just wasn’t sure the CIA would see it that way. To be honest, she knew for a fact they were still pretty mad at her, the memory of their refusal to help still fresh in her memory. This was not going to be easy, but it had to be done.

 _At least we have some leverage over them this time_ , she thought wryly. Hogan’s aid in bombing a London tube station, with an as yet unspecified number of deaths, that gave them a justified reason to demand their help in catching the sodding bastard.

The car stopped and they got out, marching towards the door as Harry dug up his mobile and made a call.

She walked close enough to her boss to hear the phone be answered by a curt ‘Werner.’

‘Laurie.’ Harry’s greeting was equally curt. ‘You know that station MI-5 is not supposed to know about?’ He didn’t even wait for a reply. ‘Well, we’re outside. Tell the reception committee we’re expected.’ He hung up on her before she could react.

Ros knew of course who Laurie Werner was. She had been in the CIA for as long as Ros had been in Section D. She had met the American woman several times and had been wholly unimpressed by the behaviour of her counterpart. Miss Werner was known for denying everything the CIA and the United States had ever been accused of, which was mostly all the confirmation they needed.

They took the lift to the highest floor and Ros could tell Arthur was uncomfortable with it all. In that respect his magical sidekick had taken to the twenty-first century a lot faster than the Once and Future King. Ros had fully supported Merlin’s notion of sending Arthur home. Unfortunately and for reasons she could not begin to fathom the rest of the team, even Harry, had vetoed that and so here Arthur was again.

Ros strongly suspected that Harry had only brought Arthur here to shout a little more. Taken into account that Arthur had really flown off the handle when Dolby started picking on her and that they were just entering a place where a lot of people would like to do nothing more than pick on her, they could anticipate a lot more shouting in the foreseeable future.

Laurie Werner came walking at them with outspread hands and a very fake smile on her face. ‘Harry!’ she greeted with an enthusiasm that was as sincere as her smile. She knew she had been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to do and was busy trying to save her own skin. ‘We’ve been meaning to tell you about this place.’

Ros snorted at that bold lie. The CIA may be planning a lot of things, but informing MI-5 wasn’t obviously very high on their to-do list. This station had been up and running for almost a year now.

Harry didn’t buy that either, judging by the look on his face, but he wasted no time in arguing about that. ‘Where is he?’ he demanded.

The smile on Laurie’s face became even more forced than it already was and Ros’s intuition flared to life. She knew what they were here for. ‘Excuse me?’

Ros lost her patience. ‘Don’t play dumb, Laurie,’ she told the other woman. ‘It really doesn’t suit you. You released Bob Hogan, a man who by now is responsible for the death of dozens of British civilians. So we kind of like to know where he is, if that’s okay with you.’ Those last few words were more of a sarcastic notion than a serious request and they both knew it.

Laurie’s eyes narrowed in anger, but the smile remained firmly in place. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she lied.

 _And I am about to be nominated for the Most Popular Woman of the Year Award_. ‘The thing is, your former officer, who we had been told was going to spend the rest of his life in jail, is on the rampage in the streets of London, so you better start telling us how that is bloody well possible.’

The air was practically crackling with hostility, but Ros was not going to back down. This kind of behaviour reminded her once again why she had joined Yalta in the first place. And if they thought they could get away with something as severe as this, they were sorely mistaken. Next to her she could see Arthur sizing the American woman up as well, a disapproving expression on his face. She decided it would take less than five minutes for him to explode.

‘We would of course share any intelligence we have on his whereabouts, had we any, which I am not saying we have.’ Laurie’s armour of fake friendliness made the Chinese Wall look positively easy to overcome.

Harry’s fist collided with the nearest object he could find, in this case the column Arthur leaned against. The effect was a little less dramatic than a fist on the table, but it did its job. Laurie looked at least a bit startled. ‘Have you any idea how much damage this man has already caused? Jeopardising this operation is not acceptable!’ he bellowed, startling the other CIA people in the room as well.

The mask finally dropped. The CIA officer looked daggers at him. ‘I’ll tell you what’s not acceptable, Harry,’ she snapped. ‘Employing a woman who has seriously damaged our special relationship and not telling your closest ally about it. Do you have any idea what _she_ is responsible for?’

She should have known it would come to this. In the end it would all come back to her working with Yalta. She told herself it was only to be expected, that she had indeed made some grave mistakes, but somehow it had all seemed forgiven when Harry had given her a second chance. Sometimes she wondered if she would ever be truly free of that mistake.

Arthur looked a bit confused, but Harry was practically trembling with fury. ‘Ros’s past is not an issue here,’ he barked at Laurie. ‘She is _my_ outstanding officer and taken into consideration that you yourself seem to have a lot more dangerous officer on the loose, you are not exactly in a position to criticise my personnel.’ Harry in a full-blown temper was always a sight to behold and one certainly did not want to be on the receiving end of it. And the way he stood up for her, calling her his outstanding officer, like he had done when Juliet had come at her with that blasted needle, made Ros exhale in relief and pure gratitude.

 _Get a grip on yourself, Myers!_ she snapped at herself. _This is not the time to drown in your sodding memories._

‘I think you’ll find it’s me deciding here what will or will not happen,’ Laurie shot back. ‘And as long as you leave that woman in charge, there is no way we’ll give you what you want.’

‘ _Blackmail_!’ Ros spat.

That seemed to be the word that activated Arthur Pendragon. He straightened his back and took two big steps towards his opponent, because that was what she was. ‘I think you have not quite understood what this is and isn’t about. We are not asking you to cooperate, Miss Werner, we’re demanding it. Your man has caused the death of countless civilians of this kingdom. Whatever my colleague may or may not have done is not the question now. Ros is an amazing officer and you are deliberately trying to talk your way out of this. I can tell you now that is not going to work.’ Someone needed to tell Arthur he should spend less time around Harry Pearce. It may be the voice and the authority of Arthur Pendragon that came out of his mouth, but the words and tone were pure Harry.

Laurie looked at the king like he had a contagious disease. ‘Who is this?’

Harry smiled pleasantly. ‘Aidan Parker, Senior Case Officer and your new liaison officer. I’m sure you’ll get along splendidly.’

Arthur’s face gave them a different message. The king looked at Laurie as if she was the most disgusting human being he had ever laid eyes on. Ros couldn’t even find it in herself to blame him for that.

‘The answer won’t change,’ the CIA woman replied.

And Arthur’s temper flared back to life again. ‘You would rather let countless more people die as a result of your man’s actions than help us stop him because of something that has happened to you in the past? Do you hear how selfish you’re sounding here?’ he demanded in a slightly disbelieving tone. And when he phrased it like that, it indeed was beyond ridiculous, which summed up the CIA to perfection, in Ros’s opinion.

That seemed to take her by surprise at least. It would be hard to talk her way out of this, taken into account that every word Arthur had just spoken was absolutely spot on. Once again, Ros started to see the king underneath the loud-mouthed prat. It was a shame that he only showed in situations like this and not out in the field. Because she was not letting him do that, ever again. If Harry wanted him to liaise with the Americans, that was fine with her. In fact, she might even encourage that, on the condition he wouldn’t start giving them his real name like he had done the Home Secretary. But Arthur Pendragon would never again do some real spying. Apart from Morgana being here in London, wanting his guts, he just wasn’t that good at it.

It was silent for quite a long while as Laurie Werner tried to come up with a reasonable answer to Arthur’s accusation. Finally realising that there wasn’t one, she settled for a stubborn ‘We will not help you, Harry.’

‘Oh, I am sure you will.’ The head of Section D dug up another mobile and showed it to the American woman. ‘Amazing device,’ he told her. ‘Even gets video.’ Ros knew that right now it would show the news flash and then the enhanced photo of Hogan in the background. ‘He was seen at the scene of the crime, only seconds before the place was blown to bits. I do believe you are familiar with his face?’

Miss Werner’s face showed panic for a second, but then the smile was firmly back in place. ‘ _That_ proves nothing.’ She handed the device back to Harry.

‘Networks will love this,’ Harry told Arthur and Ros. ‘British security services confirm that the main suspect for the bombing belonged to the CIA, American involvement is suspected.’ This of course was a carefully planned out scenario and Ros could barely keep herself from smirking as she saw another flash of panic cross Laurie’s face. But it wasn’t enough to wipe that annoying smile off her face. Yet. ‘We deny everything,’ she informed them.

Harry’s smile betrayed that he knew he was winning. ‘And who will they believe, us or the squeaky clean CIA?’

The smile started to become hesitant. ‘You’re bluffing.’

Harry’s face was less readable than that of most poker players. ‘Give me the number for Reuters,’ he instructed Arthur.

The king did as he was told, dug up his mobile and began calling the agreed number. Laurie’s face started to show signs of uneasiness, but still it took her until after the first ring to surrender.

‘Okay, okay, okay. We’ll put some people on the case and as soon as we know where he is, we’ll share the intelligence we might get from him.’ Miss Werner was by now indeed looking slightly uneasy. _Not so sure that this is only bluff now, are you?_

‘And have him disappear in the black hole of your prison system without ever getting to him ourselves?’ Ros asked sceptically. ‘I don’t think so, no. Aidan?’

Arthur prepared to make the phone call again and Harry took it upon himself to apply some extra pressure. ‘Do you really want to be tomorrow’s headline, Laurie?’ His face was perfectly blank. If Ros would have been in that woman’s shoes, she would never dream of calling it bluff, especially now that Arthur was about to tell the news to the world. And he would. Ros and Harry agreed on one thing and that was that bluff would never get them anywhere with the Americans. Only the real thing would do the job, so that was exactly what they were going to do.

Laurie realised that too. With a face like she was forced to swallow something very sour she finally gave in. ‘Okay. You’ll get your way.’ Ros half expected there to be an added ‘but’ but it never came. They had won a round. They had won one battle, but there was still an entire war to be fought. _And heaven knows how bloody long that’s going to take._

 

***

 

It was the end of the afternoon when Harry, Ros and Arthur finally returned to the Grid, but to Merlin it felt as if only minutes had passed. The spooks’ working floor was as active as he had never seen it before, not that that was saying something, and he had been working all afternoon. Not even Arthur worked him so hard.

Lucas, who had taken over command now that the real bosses were engaged in a conflict with the ever so feared CIA, had dispatched Ben, Jo and Connie to dig up everything they could on Bob Hogan, while Malcolm and Merlin had been tasked with checking every CCTV camera in the area around the bombed station within a twenty minute frame of the attack. So far their attempts were unsuccessful.

‘Anything yet?’ Lucas inquired. The Senior Case Officer looked positively drained and he was clutching his cup of coffee like it was the only thing keeping him alive, but the look in his eyes was alert.

‘Nothing,’ Merlin replied truthfully. ‘But then, they didn’t need to walk, or drive, or come by tube. Morgana could have magically transported them there. She probably has. And then they would never show on the cameras.’

Lucas let out a sound that could easily pass for a frustrated groan.

‘Have the others found out anything yet?’ Merlin asked, knowing the answer already, but hoping for the unexpected.

It didn’t come. Lucas shook his head. ‘Nothing yet.’

At that moment the sound of the pods drew both their attention, letting in Harry, Ros and Arthur, neither of them looking particularly happy. Arthur was holding a four inch thick file that he dropped on Connie’s desk.

‘What’s that?’ the intelligence analyst questioned.

It was Ros’s voice that answered the question. ‘Hogan’s file. I want you to go through it, check out every detail. I want you to check every fact, every clue. Find out where he is hiding and do it now.’

‘You got the cousins to cooperate, then?’ Lucas concluded.

Harry snorted. ‘With the right amount of leverage.’

‘How is it possible that he is even here?’ Jo looked positively distressed, making Merlin want to put an arm around her shoulder in comfort. He could only just keep himself from doing so. Ros already thought there was something going on between them and he didn’t want to give her any more confirmation.

‘They let him off,’ Ros fumed. ‘Dishonourable discharge, but no charges against him. Because he had “contributed so much to the service of his country”.’

‘And because they don’t seem to think selling out MI-5 officers to a criminal group is an offense,’ Harry added.

Ros snorted. ‘I’m surprised they seem to think blowing up a London street is an offense.’ There was no mistaking the anger, the bitterness even, that seeped through in her voice. He recalled Jo saying something about how everyone working here had some kind of emotional luggage. Merlin had found that hard to believe about Ros at first, thinking her too cold to be moved by anything, but now he was not so sure anymore. The more he saw of her, the more aware he became of the pain she carried with her, usually buried deep inside, hidden behind the mask of the decisive Section Chief. But something about the visit to the CIA seemed to have unsettled her.

‘We’ll deal with the CIA after we’ve dealt with this crisis,’ Harry vowed. ‘We’re not done with this yet. For now I want everyone focused on finding Bob and Morgana. Everything else can wait.’

‘Right,’ Ros nodded. She seemed to have herself under control again. ‘Connie, read that file. Pass any clues you might get through to the rest of the team to follow up on.’

She might have continued issuing orders had the phone not rang at that moment. Harry, whose temper was already running seriously low, snatched it from the desk. ‘Pearce,’ he barked into it.

He must have done something with the phone, because when the person on the other end responded they could all hear them loud and clear. ‘Hello, Harry. Is that any way to greet an old friend of yours?’

Merlin noted with interest that half of the team seemed to have frozen into their position. He had no idea who this man was, but his new colleagues clearly did.

Harry remained perfectly composed. ‘I am sorry to say that I don’t usually call people who blow up London tube stations friends, Bob.’

He called the man Bob and had mentioned the attack on the station, which would mean that the man that was currently calling was the same man whose picture was still staring back at him from the screen to his right.

‘A minor blip in our special relationship,’ the other man replied nonchalantly.

‘So nice to know you think blowing hundreds of people to kingdom come is a minor blip,’ Ros commented. ‘Let’s cut it with the bloody crap, Hogan. What do you want?’

Malcolm had disappeared behind a computer screen, doing something that apparently was called tracing. Merlin suspected he was trying to find out from where this man was calling so that they could make their move to catch them.

‘Ah, Miss Myers, back from the dead, I see?’ The voice was still talking as if this was nothing more than a conversation about today’s weather.

‘I was never dead,’ Ros snapped at him.

‘I admit, I should have checked it better,’ Bob Hogan drawled.

‘Well, silly old you.’ Ros’s words had a sarcastic edge to it, but her face was dead serious. Merlin had no idea what it was that they were talking about, but then, he didn’t have to. ‘Now stop beating around the bush. We both know how this goes. Tell us what you want.’ She emphasised every word.

‘And have you trace this call while I am making my demands?’ Hogan laughed humourlessly. ‘You are not the only one to know how this game works, Myers.’

‘Then what do you want?’ Harry snarled.

Merlin glanced at Malcolm’s screen, seeing that he indeed was making progress in tracing Hogan, but that they would need some more time before the process was complete. And Merlin may be new to the whole concept of phone conversations, but it didn’t take an expert to know that this particular conversation was nearing its end.

‘You send one of your officers to the former office of my former employer in two hours’ time. And don’t be so stupid as to send back-up with them, Harry, or have them wear a wire. I’ll know if you do and I think you know the consequences of such behaviour.’ Even Merlin could see the cleverness of this plan, as much as he hated it.

Harry’s eyes were sparking with rage as he realised there was nothing really that he could do about this. ‘And what guarantee do I have I get my officer back in one piece?’ he demanded.

Hogan laughed again. ‘How else will you learn my demands?’

The call ended abruptly, leaving them all to stare at one another. Merlin didn’t think he had ever heard a silence that was so loud. A shiver went down his spine. The warlock understood all too well what exactly was happening here. Hogan and Morgana were in charge and they would have to dance to their tune if they didn’t want to risk another massacre.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

 

The tension in the meeting room was causing Ros to twitch uneasily. She knew what kind of a situation this was. This was the kind where the enemy still had the upper hand. They knew everything about Section D and yet they knew next to nothing about them. Add to that the fact that Morgana apparently had the gift to magically appear out of nowhere and they were definitely at a disadvantage now.

And she wasn’t the only one who was tense. Ben, Merlin and Jo were positively jumpy and Harry was just grumpy and very short-tempered. Connie and Malcolm hid their uneasiness well, but it was visible in their eyes. Arthur’s movements had taken on all the characteristics of a robot on a low battery.

Strangely enough it was Lucas that was the island of calm amidst all the stress of the others. His entire posture was totally relaxed. The only indication that something was wrong might be found in his eyes. They were concentrated and alert. Ros knew he was intelligent and had a memory she might commit a murder for, but his calm was downright infuriating. The way he acted you would think they were totally in control of this and last time she checked, they weren’t.

The silence dragged on, nobody wanting to be the one to break it first. In the end it was Malcolm that spoke. ‘We can’t take the risk, Harry,’ he pleaded with the section head. ‘Hogan has abducted our officers in the past. Whoever you will ask to go in there will run a terrible risk.’

 _Don’t I know it_. Ros clenched her fists in frustration, although she took care to do it under the table, where no one else could see it. But the most frustrating point was that, looking at the situation the way it was, not one of them was safe. Ros’s thoughts wandered back to Zaf’s disappearance. They had never been able to prove it, but deep down Ros was one hundred percent sure that Bob Hogan had something to do with that as well. Oh, screw that, he had something to do with it. Period. And God knows how many others he had sold to that group over the years. That man had been a self-serving bastard long before she had even met him.

And if they would obey Hogan’s demands the officer they would send in there would be completely on his own, with no back-up and no means of communication. It would almost be like handing him to the fat American on a silver platter and every fibre of Ros’s being protested against the very notion. It was her duty to keep her officers safe, not send them to an almost certain death.

 _But it’s also your duty to protect your country_ , that little voice in the back of her head reminded her. And she knew it. Those two duties warred for dominance and she knew which one should come out victorious. When it came down to it, she had to make that choice to sacrifice her people for the good of the nation. They had done it before and they would do it again, even though she had prayed it would never have to be on her watch.

But here they were and the situation asked for it. So she took a deep breath and spoke the words that nobody wanted to hear. ‘We’ll bloody well have to.’ The words came out harsh and unfeeling, but maybe that was what they needed; someone who took control of the situation and made the hard decisions, because they had to be made. They only had an hour and a half left before the meeting. They needed to do something now. ‘If we don’t make that rendezvous, we don’t get to know anything. We go in, keep the place under tight surveillance and have back-up five minutes away.’

‘They’ll know,’ Connie told her. ‘Hogan isn’t new to this game, Ros. He’ll suspect we’ll try to cheat and when he does find out, he’ll do a runner and we’ll never see him, or our officer, again.’

‘Hogan is only one man,’ the Section Chief pointed out. ‘He doesn’t have the full power of the CIA behind him anymore.’ Not that the man needed it. He had proven he could make the life of Section D a hell on his own well enough. ‘And if he is having that meeting, he doesn’t have the time to venture outside and check for surveillance.’

Merlin shook his head. ‘That won’t work. He has Morgana with him. She can use her magic to see if there are any more people around.’ And when he found himself faced with a lot of confused people, he added: ‘She can look down in a bowl of water and see whatever she wants to see. It will be too easy for her to see if we brought… the cavalry you call it, right?’

Ros blinked and blinked again. A few dots connected in her head. ‘Well, that’s just bloody brilliant!’ she fumed. ‘Are you saying that that witch can also spy on everything we say and do here?’ Because if that was true, their disadvantage was even greater than she already feared. Hogan and Morgana would already know what they were planning before the decision had even been made. Bloody magic. To think that could achieve where technology had failed made her practically boiling with rage.

Merlin carefully avoided her eyes, staring down at the table, cheeks coloured bright red. ‘She can’t,’ he informed the table. ‘I put a few spells on the Grid, making it impossible for her to spy on us.’

That was a relief at least. ‘And when exactly did you do that?’ she demanded.

‘As soon as Marlin told me she was here,’ the warlock confessed. ‘I mean, it was obvious that she is trying to play us, so I thought I’d make it a little harder for her, so now she won’t know what’s going on in here. I’m not sure what she has seen before I shielded it, though.’

Arthur frowned. ‘She might already know that we are here?’ he questioned. ‘She might know about your magic?’

Merlin nodded, looking absolutely miserable. ‘I think so. Or she might know, if she has been paying attention. She won’t have us under twenty-four hour surveillance. That’s impossible to keep up. She will find it strange though that she won’t be able to spy on us any longer.’ It was a bit strange to hear that clumsy man talk with such authority in his voice. In a strange way it both did and didn’t suit him.

Lucas nodded in understanding. ‘She will suspect there is magic involved,’ he concluded, still perfectly calm. ‘Even if she has been unable to link it to you.’

Merlin nodded. ‘I think so. It isn’t natural for entire buildings to be shielded from a sorcerer’s gaze. Most sorcerers don’t do it, because it demands quite a bit of attention.’ He thought for a moment. ‘The best I can compare it with is that to any magic-user it would be like a big sign saying _Secret Business Conducted Here_ hanging over the place. But I figured she might as well know that already, so shielding was the best option we had.’

Harry gave a curt nod. ‘Make sure you square any future ideas with Ros before you carry them out,’ he ordered. ‘Now, I agree with Ros, we need someone to go in there. We need that information.’

Malcolm was still less than convinced. ‘If we can’t send back-up with them, that will make the risk all the higher to the officer we’re sending in.’

Ros privately agreed. ‘What we really need,’ she pondered out loud, ‘is to make this an undercover job. One of us goes in, tries to gain their trust, make them believe they’ve got an ally within MI-5. And when the time is right, when we’ve got everything we need, that officer betrays them again. Plain and simple. We’ve done it before and if Merlin is right and Morgana can no longer spy on us with her magic, they will want an asset here. They won’t be able to resist the temptation, not even Hogan.’

Harry nodded thoughtfully, as did Connie. ‘The officer will run less risk that way,’ the intelligence analyst agreed.

‘We’ll still need a terrific actor to pull off such an operation,’ Ben supplied. ‘Hogan is CIA…’

‘Ex-CIA,’ Jo corrected.

‘Ex-CIA,’ Ben agreed. ‘He will be wary of such an attempt.’

‘I’ll go.’ The words had left her mouth before she had given them permission to do so, but she didn’t regret offering it. She would never ask her officers to do something she was not prepared to do herself. And she was not going to sit idly by while one of her colleagues was going to walk straight into the lion’s den. She had lost too many of them already; first Zaf, then Adam. She’d be damned if she let anyone else take such a risk.

The ‘no’ that followed was spoken by everyone present, but it was Harry that explained it. ‘Out of the question, Rosalind,’ he told her sternly. ‘Hogan already wants your head. He won’t believe it.’

Ros snorted. ‘He already believes I like to do nothing more than betray my country during lunch time.’ She managed to keep the sarcasm in her tone, but the truth of her words still hurt. But she also knew that if her past was her way in, she would use it. ‘He’ll fall for it.’

‘Out of the question,’ Harry repeated. ‘You, Rosalind, are as likely to convince an old war horse like Bob Hogan that you are on his side as I am to declare my undying love for politicians.’

Lucas went into a coughing fit, although it might have been badly suppressed laughter as well. Ros could feel the corners of her own mouth curl up at that mental picture. A more reasonable part of her knew that he was right about this. Hogan hated her with a passion for her involvement with Yalta, especially after her actions had made sure quite a few American satellites had been out of business for several weeks. Yet she also had a history of betrayal that Hogan was well aware of. Ros knew she was the most likely member of Section D to be turned by a group whose interests were hostile to those of Britain. She had put that thought into the spoken words before thinking about it any further.

Harry’s eyes were sparking with righteous rage. ‘You will do no such thing!’ The look on his face had sent less brave people than Ros running for cover without a second thought, but she had seen worse things than her boss in a fit of fury. ‘And that is non-negotiable. You will stay here and supervise this operation, but you will not offer yourself up on a silver platter. We are a team and we have more than enough capable officers here, officers who have far less history with Bob bloody Hogan.’

Lucas had been listening to the entire conversation, but he had been thinking. Ros was seated opposite him and she hadn’t missed the alert look in his eyes. So she really shouldn’t have been surprised when he spoke up. ‘What we need is someone whose loyalty can be called into question, who doesn’t want Hogan’s head on a spike and who has no real connection with our guests here.’

Ros was tempted to roll her eyes in exasperation. There was nobody here that fit that description. ‘And where, pray, would we find such a wondrous creature?’

There was no hint of mocking or humour in Lucas’s eyes as he returned her look and in a flash of intuition Ros knew exactly what he was going to say. ‘I’ll do it.’

The decisive ‘no’ that followed that announcement came from both Ros and Harry.

 

***

 

‘No, Lucas.’ Harry Pearce had been pacing his office for at least twenty minutes continuously, glass of whisky in hand, a look in his eyes that told everyone who knew how to read him how distressed he was.

Lucas himself had sat down, watching his boss carefully. ‘Think about it, Harry,’ he urged. ‘Hogan doesn’t know me and I can sell him the story of how I believe you have deliberately left me to rot in Russian prison for eight years. I _do_ have a reason to turn traitor. No one will question my motives.’

Harry’s back had been turned on him when he had spoken those words, but it was all too easy to see him freeze as he heard those words. And Lucas knew why his boss had done that. His words had come uncomfortably close to the truth. They both knew that the reasons he would give to Hogan for his defection, provided that Harry would let him go in, would also be the reasons that he could really use to turn on MI-5. And if Lucas was already aware of that, then Harry must be too.

It was ironic really. All those things that made him the most suitable candidate for the job made it also a huge risk to MI-5. For all Lucas knew they all still looked at him with some wariness. He knew he had made it look like he had been a double agent for the FSB, but he had revealed his true colours when his actions had put Arkady Kachimov in the hands of Section D. That had dispelled most of his colleagues’ distrust of him. Most of them had welcomed him back into the team. Even Ros, the most wary (or maybe paranoid was a better word) of the lot, seemed to have accepted him.

Still, eight years in Russian hell were not something that was easily overlooked, or forgotten for that matter, as Lucas knew all too well. Even now that he had been back for some months, he kept waking up to his own frantic screaming, that was if he managed to fall asleep in the first place. The smallest things could trigger flashbacks, although he had taken care to control his reactions around other people. It wouldn’t do to give Harry and Ros any indication that he was not as capable of doing his job as he had been before his imprisonment.

Harry turned back to him, his expression a mixture of wariness and fatherly concern. ‘Why do you want to do this, Lucas?’

 _Because I need a way to regain your trust in me_. For a moment he contemplated telling him the truth, but he knew that would result in a one-way ticket to the nearest shrink. He thought that Harry at least didn’t suspect him of being a double agent anymore, but his confidence in Lucas’s recovery was another matter entirely and he wasn’t going to give the section head a reason to send him on sick leave.

‘You need someone to do it,’ Lucas pointed out. ‘I fit the profile.’ He kept his tone as business-like as he could, trying to keep this conversation on strictly operational level, instead of digging through his own personal motives. ‘And we have very limited time to work out a plan. Hogan won’t buy the story from any other of the team. They were all too involved last time. I wasn’t.’

He knew this for a fact. True, he had still been in prison when the whole Hogan affair had occurred, but he had been reading, or rather digging, through years and years of information. So by now he had a pretty good idea of what had happened back then, even though there were still a few blanks, like what had been going on with Ros Myers at the time.

Harry could say very little to deny that. Lucas knew he was right. And time was running out. They only had less than an hour before the meeting. The decision needed to be made within the next couple of minutes.

That didn’t mean however that Harry didn’t try to stop him from doing his job. ‘We are talking about a former CIA man. Suspecting people is in his nature. He’ll suspect foul play.’

But he was not going to back down, not now. This was the first chance he got since he had officially returned to Section D to really do his job. He had done paperwork until he thought he would run mad, he had gone to meet with a few assets and done some surveillance. But he needed to be really out in the field again, not only to prove to Harry that he was still capable of doing his job, but first and foremost to prove it to himself.

He looked Harry right in the eyes. ‘I beat the head of the FSB in London at his own game,’ he reminded the section head. ‘We both know that I will be able to pull this off. The real question is: do you trust me enough to let me do this?’ He grimaced in spite of himself as he added wryly: ‘Because that has always been the real issue here, hasn’t it?’

Trust, the key word within Section D. Once upon a time, in the period Lucas now referred to as _before Russia_ , they had trusted each other unconditionally. Harry had come closer to a father than his own and he in turn knew that he was closer to Harry than his own son. But then Russia had happened and in that time they had come to distrust one another. Harry was bound to have doubts about Lucas’s loyalty. After all, the FSB had had eight long years to try and turn Lucas. And God knew the FSB had tried to achieve just that. Arkady Kachimov had taken great joy in pointing out that Harry didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get his officer back, that, in fact, it looked a lot like he had just abandoned him. The solitude hadn’t done much in convincing Lucas that he wasn’t right, so by the time he had finally, _finally_ been released, he didn’t know what to think about his boss anymore.

Harry looked like Lucas had physically hit him. His remark had been below the belt, but by now the unspoken distrust had gotten to him so badly that it almost made him literally sick. He had not been able to bite it back any longer.

‘Lucas, you know I trust you.’ The tone was almost pleading.

‘Then let me do this,’ he insisted.

Harry was still not convinced. ‘What if they catch you?’ he demanded. ‘You’ll be without back-up, with no means of communication. You’ll be on your own against a CIA man and a dangerous bloody witch. We won’t be able to get to you in time if something goes wrong.’

 _Wouldn’t be the first time, would it, Harry?_ He looked the head of Section D right in the eyes again. ‘If I get caught, then I’ll trust you to get me out.’ This time.

It was more of a challenge than a solid belief and they both knew it. To Lucas this was the chance they both needed, to show the other that things had not changed, not really. They both needed to know that they could still trust one another and this operation would be the test case.

It was silent for a long while, but in the end Harry finally nodded. ‘Go see Malcolm for a tracker and one of his small devices,’ he ordered brusquely. ‘I don’t care what Bob says about wearing wires, I’m sure Malcolm can provide you with some of his untraceable wizardry.’

It was a compromise. Lucas couldn’t determine whether Harry ordered this because he didn’t trust him or because he was just concerned for his officer’s wellbeing. Lucas hoped for the last, but deep down he feared the first.

‘Yes, Harry,’ he replied seriously. He could and would use this operation to prove his loyalty, if that was what it took. He smiled wryly as he made his way to the tech suite. Because if he didn’t have MI-5, what other home did he have to go to?


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting between Lucas and Morgana doesn't quite go according to plan.

**Chapter 21**

 

Arthur waited with the rest of the team in the tech suite until Harry and Lucas had completed their conversation. The king had started pacing up and down the room, something that seemed to irritate the Section Chief to no end. She had already given him a few stern looks, but had, so far, refrained from commenting.

Everyone was visibly on edge after the phone call, but Arthur couldn’t help but thinking that he was the worst, as hard as he was trying not to show it. All the discomfort he had experienced in the past few days as a result from being forced to survive in the twenty-first century and assisting in an operation he could barely understand, seemed to have faded away in an instant when Merlin had called him to report Morgana’s presence in London.

It felt infinitely wrong that she was here as well. Heaven knew that London wasn’t the safest of places, today’s operation had made that all too clear to him, but he had been under the impression that there at least were no evil sorcerers here to disturb the peace. And it would seem that there still weren’t. Arthur and Merlin had just brought their own with them.

So, in a way he felt guilty. If they had never come here, Morgana might never have been here either. The team he now was part of didn’t believe in coincidence and neither did Arthur. He could only think of one reason why Morgana would ever willingly venture into the twenty-first century and that had everything to do with his presence here.

Merlin seemed to have been reading his mind. ‘I don’t think it is our presence that drew her here,’ he told the team in general.

To Arthur’s surprise Ros nodded. ‘Al-Qaeda was planning something long before we learned of the portal to your time,’ she agreed. ‘And if they needed to get to Marlin’s family in the short time between capturing you and that first meet we had with him, they had to work faster than humanly possible.’

Arthur nodded reluctantly. That made sense. Unfortunately it destroyed just about every other theory he had as to why Morgana was in London and what on earth she wanted with Section D if not to get to Arthur. Hopefully Harry would allow Lucas to make that rendezvous.

Unlike every other member of the team, or so it would seem, Arthur had faith in the Senior Case Officer. In the short time he had known him he had learned that Lucas had spent eight years in prison in a foreign country, being tortured for information he had never given his interrogators. Merlin had learned that from Jo and had passed the information on to Arthur. The king now understood the nightmares and the man’s fear of water (apparently Lucas had been subjected to water torture).

But Arthur had gotten to know him mostly as a serious man, completely devoted to his work and who was, as Ros would phrase it, bloody good at it too. Arthur had worked with him on the operation and, as soon as the shock of the events had worn off, he had started to appreciate the way Lucas did his job. He was calm, intelligent and resourceful. To tell the truth, if anyone stood a chance at going to meet Morgana and make it back in one piece, it would be him.

‘But what does Morgana want then?’ It was the obvious question to ask.

‘And why would she ally with Bob Hogan?’ Jo chimed in.

‘I can answer that last one,’ Merlin said wryly. ‘She takes any ally she can get.’ He shrugged. ‘And loses them again once they are no longer useful to her. She thinks of Hogan as disposable. If he can no longer help her achieve her goal, she’ll lose him first chance she gets. Or she kills him, if we’re lucky.’

It frightened Arthur a little to hear his normally so gentle servant speak in this way. It wasn’t like Merlin to be so hateful towards anyone. He had half expected him to stand up for Morgana, as he had done when she was still living in Camelot.

‘Same with Hogan,’ Ros nodded. ‘With the slight variation that he would probably sell her out to the highest bidder.’

Even though he hated Morgana now, Arthur thought that a bit harsh. ‘That is sick,’ he commented.

Ros threw in a sarcastic grin. ‘That sums him up to perfection.’

‘Talking about me?’ Lucas came walking into the tech suite, smiling widely, but his eyes were alert. His relaxed posture was just a bit too relaxed to be real, Arthur decided. It reminded him of when Merlin was on edge and yet still tried to be perfectly optimistic in order not to worry his boss. And Arthur could simply not imagine Lucas not to be nervous. He was about to meet Morgana and the man that apparently was Section D’s archenemy.

‘Our sodding charming station-bombing CIA friend,’ Ros corrected. ‘Did Harry give you permission?’

Lucas nodded. ‘Yep.’ Ros’s face darkened at that reply, but her colleague ignored her. ‘Malcolm, Harry asked me to find you for a tracker and some undetectable bugs.’

That seemed to make the technician’s day. His face split in a wide grin. ‘I’ve got just the thing,’ he told them. He got up and grabbed a jacket of a nearby chair. ‘There is one audio bug in the top button and a small camera in the one under it.’

Arthur leaned closer to get a better look, but could not see a sign of the mentioned objects. ‘I don’t see anything,’ he remarked, raising his eyebrows.

Some might take that as an insult, but Malcolm seemed to think he had received a compliment. ‘That’s the point. I tweaked the software a bit, so that…’

At this point Ros cut him off. ‘Fascinating,’ she commented in a tone that suggested she thought it was anything but that. ‘Can you bloody well hurry up a bit? We’re running out of time here. Are you absolutely sure these can’t be picked up by any detectors?’

‘As good as,’ the elderly man told her. ‘In theory it should be completely undetectable.’

Arthur didn’t understand a lot of twenty-first century machinery, but he did know the word theory. That didn’t bode well in general.

Lucas seemed to have had the same thought. ‘In theory?’

Malcolm grimaced. ‘I must admit I have never actually seen it tested.’

‘Great!’ Ros exclaimed.

Lucas reacted with a lopsided grin. ‘Great,’ he said too, although it came out more sarcastic with him. ‘And how about the tracker?’ he put on the jacket while Malcolm searched his collection of small devices for the requested tracker. ‘Nice jacket. Do I get to keep it?’

‘Unfortunately not,’ Malcolm replied with a wink. ‘Here, the tracker. You’ll need to swallow it if you don’t want it discovered.’

Now it was Lucas’s turn to grimace in disgust. ‘Delicious,’ he said. ‘Will it still be operational once it’s in my stomach?’

Malcolm nodded. ‘Oh, the joys of technical development.’

Lucas swallowed the tracker and shuddered. ‘They do need to improve on taste, though. Anything else I need to take with me?’

‘No, you’re good to go.’ The technician grabbed Lucas’s hand reassuringly. ‘Good luck.’

The other spy responded with another grin. ‘You know me. I’ll survive.’ But the smile came across as a bit forced and Arthur couldn’t help but worry as Lucas made his way to the pods and disappeared out of sight.

 

***

 

Lucas’s hands clenched around the steering wheel as he drove the car down to the meeting place, a now abandoned warehouse just outside the city centre that had until a few months ago functioned as a CIA surveillance post. He would rather die than admit it, but the nerves were killing him. He had seen Hogan’s file, only briefly, but more than enough to know that the former CIA man was absolutely ruthless. About Morgana he knew less, but Arthur and Merlin had outlined the problems they had with her pretty well. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do for now.

He tried not to think about the fact that the last time he had gone to meet with a high level asset on his own he had landed himself in prison. Somehow the FSB had learned of the meeting, even when it should have been impossible. And this meeting was just as dangerous. If Hogan as much as suspected that he was carrying a bug the operation would be dead in the water and it was not unlikely he himself might end up just as dead.

The very thought of it made him almost throw up, but that was one thing that he could not do. Not right now, while Morgana may be watching him. As soon as he had left Thames House he would have been visible in her bowl of water. Ros had ordered Merlin to extend the protective wards over all of the building, but outside they were vulnerable, so he’d have to behave as a potential traitor from now on, just in case she was watching him. So that meant that he’d have to be calm and relaxed.

So he forced himself to take deep breaths and focus on the road. It wouldn’t do now to get caught up in an accident. He did this to ensure the safety of Britain, as he had always done and he was not going to ruin this opportunity. To him it felt as the only way to gain back Harry’s trust in him. Only then would he be really back home. He needed this to work for personal reasons as well as for the good of the country.

It was a dreary place Hogan had chosen for a meeting. The warehouse had every appearance of having been in disuse for years. Lucas thought it highly likely to be leaking and draughty, even though the CIA had been using it not that long ago. It looked like one of the hide-outs criminals always seemed to use in the movies he still remembered from before his capture and imprisonment.

‘Charming,’ he muttered under his breath, parking the car at the equally abandoned parking lot in front of the building.

He decided to just go in through the front door. There was bound to be a back door, multiple ones probably if the CIA had been using this place for almost three years. They were paranoid enough to want them. Not that Hogan and Morgana would need them. If Merlin was to be believed that witch could just spirit them out of this place in some kind of magical whirlwind if she needed an escape.

He was capable of opening the door without any trouble, as he had more or less expected. This was after all an arranged meet, even if it wasn’t without risks. He was expected.

Lucas was met by the sight of a long and narrow corridor with doors on both sides, but all of them were closed. Only the door at the very end was slightly ajar. This entire building radiated the atmosphere of a very bad horror movie. All that was missing was the absence of electricity, rain and thunder outside and dramatic music in the background.

As if someone had heard him the light in the corridor went out. The only light now came from the small windows of the door behind him and the room behind the opened door. Someone, probably Morgana, had a love of theatrics, but Lucas couldn’t help but feel the panic tugging at him at the thought of having to cross such a narrow corridor. With very little fantasy this could be the corridor they forced him through to the interrogation room in Russia.

That thought was almost his undoing. The smallest things could trigger flashbacks that left him screaming, begging for mercy, and effectively reduced him to a snivelling wreck, incapable of doing anything. And this was by no means a small thing. He staggered back until his back hit the front door, breathing too fast, heart pounding in his ears.

 _You can’t_ , the more rational part of his brain told him. _If you break down now they’ll know. They’ll know you are no longer capable of handling the demands of this job. They’ll have you suspended, shipped off to the shrinks._

Maybe that was exactly what he needed, because there was only one thing he feared more than the horrors of Russian prison: losing his place in Section D. It was the one thing in his life left to him after he had come back to Britain. He had lost his house, his wife and most of his self-esteem, but not his job. So now he clung to it with all his might. He would not break, not when they had failed to do so in that hellhole.

He forced himself not to think about it and walked through the corridor with long decisive steps. And if he was doing so at a faster pace than he usually did, that was completely coincidental and had nothing to do whatsoever with unresolved trauma or the feeling that he was walking at something that was as least as bad as his interrogation sessions.

The room behind the door was spacious and light. Lucas guessed that this would have been the cafeteria back in the day. He could still see the last ruins of the counter and kitchen at the far left end of the room. The right end was just a wall, with another door, again closed, in it. The wall he was staring at was made of glass, letting in the late afternoon light. That calmed him somewhat at least. He had an escape route if the need should arise.

At the same time this also worried him. That wall was one big window. Everyone who wanted could look in. And that could only mean one of two things. The first was that his hosts were incredibly stupid that they would willingly take the risk to rendezvous in such a place, but Lucas dismissed that thought almost immediately. From all that he had heard about both Hogan and Morgana, neither were stupid. They calculated the risks, didn’t act on impulse and most certainly wouldn’t take any chances of getting caught. So that only left the second option: they were confident that they would not be disturbed. And that was bothering him for completely different reasons.

‘You made it then?’ a female voice asked from somewhere behind him.

Lucas forced himself not to turn on his heels. That would tell her how startled he was and that was no good way to begin this conversation, so instead he remained in place, forcing himself to take on as relaxed a posture as he could manage. ‘Did you ever doubt that I would, my lady?’ That was the correct title, right?

‘I’d have expected Harry to send someone more familiar,’ a familiar voice with an American accent drawled.

This time Lucas did turn, a relaxed smile on his face. ‘Oh, I think you’re far too clever to expect that,’ he told the fat man that was standing only a few meters away from him. ‘After all, Harry doesn’t like the idea of any more of his officers doing a disappearing act on a visit with you. I’m sure you’d understand.’

Bob Hogan looked even less impressive in the flesh than he did in a photograph. Lucas wanted to bet he hadn’t worked out for quite some time, which would automatically mean that he spent most of his time behind a desk. None of the officers that needed to go out in the field would take the risk of neglecting their body like that. In a fight that would give him the advantage.

Hogan wasn’t alone, of course. Half behind him, leaning against the wall in what looked like perfect boredom was a young woman with long black hair and green eyes. Her hair was messy and looked like it hadn’t seen a comb for at least a year. She wore a black dress that was dirty at the hems. At any rate that was not a piece of clothing she could have purchased in London. Her face was pale, but her eyes were highlighted with the heavy makeup she used. All in all it made her come across like some kind of gothic type.

‘Yet he sent you,’ Hogan remarked. ‘Is he not afraid you will do a disappearing act?’

Lucas smiled at him pleasantly. ‘He did have your wellbeing in mind as well,’ he informed the former CIA man. ‘He seemed under the impression Ros Myers would love to kill you and since he wants you to talk, that might prove to be a bit counterproductive.’

Hogan grimaced at the mention of Ros’s name, proving to Lucas that it had been a wise decision not to send her in. ‘Why did he send you, Lucas North?’

So he knew who he was. But then, with Morgana’s magical spying that was only to be expected. He therefore tried not to show how much Hogan had surprised him. ‘He had to send someone,’ he replied with a casual shrug of the shoulders. ‘But it would appear I came here for nothing. If all you wanted to do was gloat, then you are clearly not the man I took you for.’

There, he’d done it. The first hint that he thought Hogan wasn’t just any ordinary terrorist. He was quite sure this would not have escaped the other man’s notice. He had spent the entirety of his career in the CIA. He wasn’t stupid, and Lucas knew it.

The quick rise of the eyebrows confirmed that the hint had indeed been picked up, even if it was still laced with wariness and uncertainty. And he would be right to do that. In this stage of the talks it could still mean anything. It would take a few more subtle remarks to make him receptive to the bait.

‘So I suggest you make your demands,’ Lucas went on. ‘My boss is quite… shall we say anxious to learn what you are up to.’ Again he took care not to make this personal, to give the impression that he himself couldn’t care less about the demands, or the result of the negotiations anyway.

Heavens, he had missed this, he realised. Finally, after eight long years of suffering, he was back in the field properly. Before Russia he had sometimes hated the long days, running on coffee and adrenaline for sometimes weeks on end, never knowing if their next move would prove effective or their biggest mistake ever. Before Russia he had sometimes despised the fear that accompanied a dangerous undercover operation, or the need to lie to people you unwillingly came to care about. In Russia he had come to crave it. And now he was doing what he did best. And while this probably placed him into the category of deranged lunatics he had to admit that he had not felt so alive for years.

This time it was Morgana that replied, as her accomplice took the time to study Lucas carefully, analysing his every word. ‘You have my brother,’ she told him accusingly.

Lucas turned to her. ‘And who would that be, my lady?’ he inquired politely. He thought he had a fairly good idea of who she was talking about, but he wasn’t a hundred percent sure yet. If he had learned one thing from having two, now three, legendary figures walking about London, it was that the legend as they had always known it, to phrase it like Ros, was “one hell of a bloody load of nonsense.”

She offered him a death glare that might even put Ros to shame. ‘Arthur Pendragon.’ The name was spoken as if it was some kind of contagious disease. It didn’t take an expert to establish that she loathed the king with every fibre of her being.

Lucas conjured up his most charming smile. ‘Ah, that troublesome bugger,’ he nodded. ‘Loud-mouthed idiot by all accounts. Has trouble doing as he is told, likes to shout a lot.’

That had indeed been his first impression of Arthur Pendragon. Merlin had come across as far more intelligent and observant. But Lucas had worked with the king. Arthur was far more observant than he had given him credit for at first. The Once and Future King had a sense of loyalty and justice the likes of which Lucas had almost never seen before. For some reason he cared about what happened here. That had become clear when he refused to leave when they found out Morgana was actually here.

But this was all need-to-know information and Morgana didn’t need to know. If he was going to convince her that he was a traitor to his own team, it wouldn’t do to be caught liking her archenemy.

‘His servant isn’t much better,’ he went on. ‘Clumsy pain in the backside, that one.’

At the mention of Merlin Morgana’s face actually darkened. ‘You can tell your boss that I want them,’ she snapped at Lucas. ‘I want nothing else from him.’

Lucas noted that she didn’t use the plural form, which might mean that Hogan had demands of his own. ‘Can’t imagine you being interested in some legendary king, Bob,’ he therefore said, imitating Harry’s tone, guessing that would vex the other man. After all, it had been Harry that had uncovered his clandestine activities, effectively ruining Hogan’s chances of a comfortable retirement.

His guess had been spot on. ‘You’re one of Harry’s, aren’t you?’ he asked, an intense look on his face. Lucas had problems determining whether Hogan was just trying to read him or wanted him for lunch for those words.

He went for the relaxed move. ‘Oh, you just hang around long enough and you’ll copy his tone automatically. Doesn’t mean we agree on everything.’ _And you can take that hint and run with it._

And Hogan seemed to do just that, narrowing his eyes and sizing Lucas up. It took him all he had not to smile triumphantly. He was taking the bait. Oh, he was still debating with himself whether he could trust him or not, whether Lucas was even saying what he thought he was, but he was at least considering the option.

Morgana too seemed to sense something was going on. She left the wall, walking over to him, measuring him. Her gaze was much colder than Hogan’s and for some reason far more suspicious. But that was only natural, Lucas supposed. This time and place were still strange to her. They had been to Merlin and Arthur as well and both of them had spent much of their first day acting particularly jumpy. And Morgana, being on the wrong side of the law, would have even more reason to be wary of everyone she encountered, especially if those people belonged to MI-5 and were busy trying to work to convince them that they really were on their side. And she wasn’t stupid. She knew what he was playing at.

She came to a stop in front of him. He was taller than she was and she had to look up to him, yet for some reason it felt like it was the other way around. ‘I don’t trust you,’ she told him, her eyes holding his own gaze.

Lucas didn’t dare look away now. Instead he conjured up the mask of the confident, slightly arrogant spook that hid his fears from view. He had had interrogators that had talked to him in that exact same voice, right before they unleashed their latest torment on him. But there was something different about Morgana Pendragon. Most of his interrogators had been thugs; uneducated, good for nothing except beating the crap out of other people for their own pleasure. Their serving the country was nothing more than the excuse they used for doing what they did best.

The Lady Morgana was different. She was intelligent, cunning definitely, but she also went about it with something that might be called style. In a way she reminded him of Arkady Kachimov. They were both players and both were prepared to use him as a pawn in their game.

But they did it for entirely different reasons. Kachimov had been doing it for his country as much as for his own pleasure. He loved to play people for the fun of the game only, the thrill of it. Morgana had more specified needs. He wouldn’t call it desire. This was something she for some reason desperately _needed_. Less skilled people might not have seen it, but then, most people were not trained spooks with years and years of experience. He could see beyond the ice-cold hatred and indifference and see a vulnerable woman, alone in the world.

‘I would imagine you don’t,’ he replied, ignoring Hogan for now. The American was still stewing over his last words and it became increasingly clear to him that Morgana really was the one in charge here, even though Bob probably tried to convince himself otherwise. ‘Would you appreciate a token?’ he asked her. ‘To convince you that I am trustworthy enough to talk to?’

The look in her eyes told him she needed that. There was wariness there, but at the same time there was sadness there as well. Lucas couldn’t help but feel for her.

He made a spur of the moment decision. ‘Then I think you need to know that MI-5 has been listening to every word we said.’ He tore the top two buttons from his jacket and threw them onto the ground. The devices made a satisfactory sound as they were crunched beneath the heels of his shoes.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

 

There was a silence on the Grid after Lucas had told Morgana that they had been listening to the conversation all along. And then the screen went all hazy and blurry as the cameras were torn off the jacket. For a moment Merlin didn’t understand what had happened, but then they got one last good visual of one of Lucas’s shoes before it came forcefully down on the devices, effectively cutting them off from any source of information they might have.

Ros swore, violently and definitely not under her breath. She turned to Malcolm. ‘Can you do something about this?’ she demanded.

‘They are gone, Ros,’ the technician pointed out. ‘I can’t fix it from here. That is, if I can fix them at all. But…’

Harry didn’t let him finish. ‘Then we’ll pull him out. I will not have him out on a limb there.’ The concern was practically written all over his face, but Merlin didn’t understand that worrying at all. He himself had gotten rather alarmed when Lucas had betrayed their watching the entire meeting. So yes, of course Lucas was trying to play the traitor and of course he had to make it convincing, but this had not been necessary. Hogan and Morgana had not been suspecting that MI-5 was listening, not at all. So why tell them something they had not known, why risk this? He knew that he had not finished that question, so he ended it now. Why risk this if Lucas was not a real traitor?

And it was even probable. In the meeting, shortly before Harry had dismissed them all to try and talk to Lucas personally, someone, he thought it had been Ros, had pointed out that Lucas might be the ideal candidate for the job, because he was the only one of the team that really had a reason to defect. So what if Lucas had only convinced Harry to let him do this mission so that he had the opportunity to join the enemy?

‘No,’ Ros said immediately. ‘Then we’ll waste any chance of ever getting our hands on Hogan and Morgana. Lucas knows what he’s doing.’ Something sparked in her eyes. She still wasn’t happy about it, might even be furious about it, but she didn’t condone Lucas’s course of action entirely. It was almost as if she understood.

Malcolm had disappeared behind his computer screens again, muttering a lot of words that sounded completely alien to Merlin.

‘In English?’ Ros asked in a sarcastic and irritated voice.

The technician’s face split into a grin. ‘I had been anticipating this.’ His voice sounded far too cheerful and excited for the situation. ‘I thought that if these bugs were discovered, I had installed spares in two of the other buttons. So the only thing I need to do is to reroute the feed with a code…’

‘I say again: _English_ ,’ Ros told him through clenched teeth.

‘There are two other bugs in the jackets,’ Malcolm explained. ‘I just need to activate them.’

‘Then what are you bloody waiting for?’ the Section Chief exploded.

Malcolm didn’t even answer that question. He just disappeared behind the screen again, fingers flying over the keys. He muttered a few curses when the computer refused to give him what he wanted and for a moment Merlin feared that he failed to do whatever it was that he was trying to achieve, but then the camera flared back to life. First they heard only the crackling and hissing noise that Merlin knew to be caused by protesting bugs, but then both sound and visual returned.

For a moment, though, it wasn’t clear what exactly it was that they saw. Merlin found himself looking at something that appeared to be a blue and white striped tie and a bit of the accompanying jacket. But then the tie moved to the side and they could see the room again, or at least that part of the room which the camera was pointed at.

In the background he could see Morgana, still dressed in that same black dress he had last seen her in. The expression on her face was both cold and excited. A shiver went down his spine. Morgana being excited had never before boded well for Camelot or for people in general and he doubted it would now.

‘What are you playing at?’ the voice of Bob Hogan demanded. They could still see a piece of his jacket, so he must be standing close to Lucas. The tone in his voice betrayed that he actually knew what this was all about, but didn’t dare to believe it.

‘I think you know.’ Lucas’s voice, so unlike the American’s, sounded calm and composed. Merlin had cursed the fact that he couldn’t see the spook’s face before, but now it bothered him all the more. If only they could see him, could see, read from his face what he was up to.

‘Interesting,’ Morgana remarked. She studied Lucas with barely concealed curiosity and she appeared pleased with what she saw. Merlin remembered that look all too well. She had given him the exact same look in her hovel some months back, right before she had enchanted him to kill Arthur. This was the look of a player looking at her pawn. ‘You would betray your colleagues, your friends?’

‘I don’t do friends,’ Lucas replied. Merlin could almost hear the dismissive smile. ‘In my experience they’re either a nuisance or they’re boring.’

Morgana’s smirk became a bit more distinct. ‘Indeed,’ she agreed.

 _What does she know?_ That question kept going round and round in Merlin’s head. He had seen a flash of recognition in her eyes, which would mean that she had at least witnessed that first meeting with Marlin.

‘I don’t believe it,’ Hogan stated dismissively. ‘I know his boss, Harry Pearce. That sad bastard would try to send someone in under the pretence of being a traitor. And when he knew everything he wanted to know, he would pull out his officer and blow our operation right before we were ready to deal the final blow.’

Harry’s face told them all that Hogan’s assessment of the situation was spot on. The head of Section D looked like he had spent way too much time in the burning summer sun. Ros didn’t seem much more composed, but in her case it wasn’t anger. It looked like anxiety to Merlin. And if Lucas was indeed still on their side, of which the warlock was now no longer convinced, then he might indeed be in danger.

Lucas deflected the accusation with ease. ‘That is why he sent me in here,’ he admitted. ‘He just didn’t realise that my loyalty is not with Section D.’

‘Last time we checked you were awfully close with Harry Pearce,’ Hogan insisted.

The Senior Case Officer snorted. ‘I used to be. _Before_ he left me to rot in Russian prison for eight years.’ He tried to sound hateful, but no one was fooled. Everyone could hear the underlying tone of hurt and betrayal.

Merlin could feel a shiver go down his spine. Nobody could act this well. Nobody could pretend to feel like this without actually feeling it. And the worst thing was that this would make sense, and an awful lot of sense at that. Lucas had spent eight years of being tortured and abused in a prison in a foreign country and he held Harry responsible for that. According to Jo Harry had done everything in his power to get his hands on the spook, but locked up in Russia Lucas would have had no way of knowing.

‘That’s a nice story,’ Hogan commented in a sarcastic voice.

‘You have no idea what it is like there!’ Lucas snapped at him. ‘Being tortured, isolated from every human contact, being abandoned by your own country, your own colleagues? Do you know what it is like to be constantly watched with distrust by your colleagues because they’re afraid you’ve been turned by the FSB?’ The spook’s voice was harsh and full of unspoken resentment that turned Merlin’s stomach to ice. He had already known never to underestimate this man. He usually seemed friendly enough, but he had seen the cold in him before.

Morgana raised her hand. She had gradually come closer, her face a mix of hope and interest. If, and _if_ was being the operative word, Lucas was still on their side, playing Morgana, then he was doing an amazing job of it. Lucas’s rant might hold true for Bob Hogan, who as far as Merlin knew had never been in such a situation, but Morgana might be able to relate to Lucas’s ordeal. She knew what it was like to be shunned because of things she did not have any control over. She knew what it was like to be all alone, misunderstood, having no one to talk to. It were those very things that had pushed her over the edge. It were those things that had turned her against everyone she had liked and loved before then.

Maybe that was the reason that it was so easy for him to believe that Lucas was going down that very same road. Like Morgana he had a darker side. He might once have used that part of him for the good of his kingdom, like Morgana had once done, but after his imprisonment that might have changed, like Morgana had changed after having been brainwashed by Morgause for a year. The similarities between these two were striking and it frightened him more than he dared to admit.

‘If you are telling the truth,’ Morgana began. She was still standing in front of Malcolm’s well hidden cameras, giving the whole of Section D a clear visual of her face. ‘If you are telling the truth, then why do you come to us?’

‘You hate Harry Pearce.’ Merlin imagined this was directed at Bob Hogan, because Morgana would have no reason to hate the elderly spy. ‘Well, so do I. You want your revenge on him as much as I do. And you need me. You no longer have access to information from Thames House. I can provide that for you.’

The expression on Morgana’s face had turned wary again and Merlin could imagine Hogan wouldn’t be too pleased either. Because if Lucas told them he was aware of the fact that they had until quite recently free magical access to everything that happened in this very building, then he must also be aware that someone, someone with magic, must have shielded the place. The feeling of dread returned in tenfold. Lucas had all but blown Merlin’s cover with this confession.

He glanced around the group to get a fix on their reactions. Ben, Jo and Connie seemed uneasy as well, Harry and Malcolm were tense, but concentrated. The last two didn’t really look like they were distrusting Lucas, like the first group was, but they were uncomfortable with the entire situation. It were Arthur and Ros that were the surprises. The Once and Future King was perched on a nearby desk, following the operation with interest. There was no judgement in the king’s face. The Section Chief was standing next to him, arms folded across her chest, nodding as if she wholeheartedly approved of what her colleague was doing. A little mean voice in the back of his head wondered if she only did this because she had a history of betrayal herself.

‘What the hell does he think he’s doing?’ Harry Pearce fumed.

‘Playing them,’ Ros replied, her eyes never leaving the screen. There was something, understanding maybe, sparking in them.

‘This is no act,’ Ben remarked quietly, disbelieving. And Merlin tended to agree with him. He had seen this happening before, when it was Morgana turning against Camelot. He had experience with this, recognised it when he saw it. This was one man turning against all those he had previously been loyal to, too damaged by what happened to him to see the truth that was right in front of him.

‘Yes, it is,’ Ros disagreed in a decisive voice.

Ben knew better than to ignore such an obvious order, but the look he sent the Section Chief’s way told them all that he didn’t hold Ros in a very high esteem.

‘What do you know of the shields?’ Morgana hissed. She came so close to Lucas that she almost touched the camera in the button.

Merlin could feel his heart pounding in his ears. The panic tugged at the edges of his mind, threatening to take over as soon as he learned that Lucas would spill the beans about him. It almost seemed inevitable now. If Lucas was indeed betraying MI-5 – and he could very well be doing that; after all he thought he was no longer being bugged – then he would certainly have no problems with telling Morgana everything he had learned about Merlin and his secret.

‘Everything,’ Lucas replied. ‘I know who cast them.’

‘No.’ It was more of a plea than an actual denial. He felt like he had swallowed a large amount of ice all at once, freezing him from the inside out.

And he wasn’t the only one to react with shock to this latest development. The Grid had gone completely quiet, making the low hum of computer equipment all that much louder. The room was filled with living statues, everyone frozen into place.

‘Careful, Lucas,’ Ros muttered, even though he would not be able to hear her; the communication was one way only.

‘Who is it?’ Morgana demanded. From the anxious tone it became clear that she didn’t know yet, which they could have used to their advantage in about every scenario, except this one.

Morgana was still effectively blocking their visual. They had to rely on the sound of the voices alone, which was frustrating for more than one reason. If only they could see Lucas’s face, then surely they would be able to determine whether he really meant what he was saying.

‘Please don’t,’ Merlin begged softly. He knew it was of next to no use, but the very thought of Morgana knowing about his magic, his greatest secret, made him visibly tremble with fear. He would lose every bit of advantage he had had so far. He would not be able to fight her from behind the scenes, completely unbeknownst to her. She had called him a thorn in her side, but never once had she dared to dream that he was also her worst fear and her greatest enemy. That ignorance had helped him enormously, but he also knew that he was about to lose it.

‘Oh, I think you know him,’ Lucas replied in a voice that was almost nonchalant. ‘It would seem that that clumsy sidekick of your brother’s is an actual sorcerer, and a rather powerful one at that.’

In the disbelieving silence on the Grid Merlin could feel the last remnants of hope go right down the drain.

 

***

 

The atmosphere on the Grid had become nothing short of poisonous after Lucas had given away Merlin’s secret. Merlin himself had all but collapsed against the nearest desk while the rest of the team had either turned a deathly pale or a very unhealthy shade of red.

Ros knew what they must be thinking. Ben had even gone as far as to voice his doubts, even if he hadn’t dared using the word betrayal itself. They all thought it, and had Ros been anyone but who she was, she might have done the same. But she had once been in the same position as Lucas. She understood what he was doing, even if no one else did.

The meeting had ended a quarter of an hour ago, resulting in Lucas being welcomed into the little explosives-loving group. Even Bob Hogan had been unable to argue with Lucas’s clear betrayal of his team. No loyal officer would ever have given away his team’s biggest secret with such nonchalance on the first meet. And Ros had to admit it was an unorthodox move, but it could have been something she’d have done herself. That was what this job sometimes entailed.

But she seemed to be the only one to look at things like that. It had only been the first meeting and already the sickening air of distrust had infected the Grid like the plague. More than half of the team already harboured serious doubts about Lucas’s loyalty and the other half was at least receptive to the possibility.

Her fists clenched and unclenched in frustration. It was true that she herself had been guilty of suspecting him. But that had been _before_ he had given them Arkady Kachimov on the proverbial silver platter. That had cured any doubt Ros might still have entertained. And his work since then had been flawless. She couldn’t have found fault in it even if she tried. Harry had let it slip once that Lucas had been his best field officer before Russia and today only proved that to her.

Everyone had returned to their desks, doing some work before Lucas’s return and the meeting that had been scheduled. The evening had already fallen, but no one had even uttered the idea of going home to rest. It was out of the question.

Merlin had taken the girl he rescued away from the Grid, taking her to a friendly looking interrogation room to get some sleep. And to keep her away from Harry’s line of sight, Ros added wryly to herself. The head of the section had not made it a secret that this was not a place for children. And normally Ros would agree with that. But now, with Merlin’s secret out in the open it was a plausible idea that Morgana would go after anyone the sorcerer was close to. It would be safest for the child to remain here for a little while longer.

Merlin was a riddle. Ros could imagine that he wasn’t about to thank Lucas for blurting out his secret, but the warlock’s reaction was more than angry. It was laced with distrust so strong that it practically radiated off him. Arthur was the relaxed one in this. His trust in her colleague seemed unshaken, even stronger than before. This seemed strange to Ros. Merlin had worked with Lucas and he had seemed to trust him. They had operated like colleagues, friends on some level. Arthur too had worked together with him, had stayed at his flat last night, but, unlike Merlin, he had been wary of everything and everyone. Right now their roles seemed to have been reversed.

The whooshing of the pods snapped her out of her analysis. Lucas entered the Grid, looking slightly out of sorts, but otherwise all right. But it was the out of sorts bit that worried her. The cameras had been unable to give them a visual of his face, but she had at least suspected that something in that warehouse had badly shaken him. Now she could see it for herself. The Senior Case Officer looked like he had seen a ghost.

‘Meeting room!’ Harry’s voice bellowed over the Grid. ‘ _NOW_!’

Ros thought it wiser not to argue, so she obediently followed the rest of the team to the meeting room and, being the last to enter, slid the doors shut behind them. Lucas had taken the far seat on the left side of the table, but no one went to sit next to him. Ros’s fists clenched again. The isolation had already begun. But she had been in that position herself, so she walked over to the empty chair and slid into it, giving Lucas an encouraging smile, something she wasn’t known to have done ever before.

There was some relief in Lucas’s eyes as he answered it with a hesitant smile of his own. ‘Thanks.’ The whisper was so soft that for half a second she thought she might have imagined it, but then she saw his lips moving.

Harry was not so considerate. He slammed his fist on the table. ‘What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?’ he demanded in a loud voice.

‘My job,’ Lucas replied curtly. The tone in which he said that was defensive, but that was understandable. After all, it was only too obvious that Harry was on the warpath.

‘You were _not_ authorised to give that kind of sensitive information!’ The head of Section D was definitely not yet pacified and Ros was glad that she was not the person his fury was directed against.

Lucas’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You heard that?’ His tone, too, was now laced with wariness.

‘Spare camera.’ Harry had gotten up from his chair, too restless to remain seated. ‘Which is beside the point. We were bloody lucky Malcolm had them installed. Did you even plan on telling us what you have told them?’ The suspicion and distrust were unmistakable. Even a fool would hear it.

And Lucas was no fool. His face darkened. It was only a second and then it made way for indignation. ‘Yes, Harry. That is what this meeting was all for, isn’t it? You don’t trust me at all, do you?’ That last sentence was more bitter than anything else.

‘Not the point.’ Harry was quick, too quick perhaps, to stop the argument to go down that particular road. ‘You were supposed to keep that information to yourself, Lucas. You _do_ know what _classified_ means?’

‘No idea,’ the Senior Case Officer shot back in a hard sarcastic voice. ‘Listen, Harry, they weren’t trusting me. I needed to give them _something_.’

If he hoped that was going to do the trick, he was sorely mistaken. ‘Something, yes. Not the biggest sodding secret we’ve ever had!’ That statement was accompanied by yet another bang on the table. Keep this up and one of these days the poor thing was going to give out, Ros thought.

‘Sooner rather than later she would have worked it out for herself,’ Lucas argued. ‘Merlin said already that his shields might attract attention and Morgana is no fool. She would realise I had been holding out on her and then my cover would have been blown wide open. We would be left with nothing.’

He was right, Ros realised. Morgana would have suspected that there was magic involved anyway and Lucas, as an insider, must know who cast these shields. And besides, chances were Morgana already knew about Merlin’s magic. The sorcerer had performed magic on the streets twice already and if she had been keeping an eye on them, as they suspected, then she would have known that as well. For Lucas not to tell her about Merlin might have been more suspicious than telling her before she asked.

‘He’s right, Harry,’ she told her boss.

‘Now don’t _you_ start as well!’ he complained. He was still too much on edge to listen to reason.

But she was not going to give up that easily. Lucas was her officer and it was part of her job description to stand up for him. He was her colleague and, as they had not that long ago established, they were okay. ‘I might have done the same thing in his place,’ she insisted.

And it was the truth. What’s more, she had already done it. In the showdown with Yalta she had almost convinced both Yalta and Section D that she was on Yalta’s side, only to betray them at the last possible moment. The fact that that particular operation had resulted in a near-death experience, a six month exile in Moscow and the lifelong hostility from the CIA and Richard Dolby, although she could not care less about that last one, she banished conveniently to the back of her mind.

But doing what she had done, what Lucas was doing now, they walked a thin line. The path Lucas had chosen was not an easy one. At some moments it would be difficult to determine which side he was really on. He might even lose sight of that himself.

So why did he do it? That was the only thing that remained a mystery to her. When she had done it, she no longer had a choice. She had to do it in order to survive. Lucas, on the other hand, had volunteered for the job, had even insisted on doing it. And, knowing what it was like, Ros couldn’t help but wonder why. Why would anyone ever willingly place himself in such a situation? Of course they could handle undercover operations, but this was so much more than that.

And then a memory found its way to the forefront of her mind. Adam Carter, trying to deal with his own personal demons several years ago, had done the exact same thing, she now recalled. He had pushed his limits, gone farther than anyone in his senses would ever go. He had almost been daring himself to break. Or he had been trying to prove to everyone, including himself, that he still had what it took to do this job, despite everything that had happened to him.

And then the penny dropped. That was precisely what Lucas North was doing as well: proving that he could still handle the demands of the job, no matter what the personal cost. He was a fool for doing it, but still Ros couldn’t find it in herself to try and stop him. Because she understood. She had been there herself, she had done it as well, six long months in deep cover in Moscow, taking far more risks than Harry would have found acceptable, all to prove her loyalty to him.

‘It is the right course of action,’ she went on. ‘It is the only thing that will convince Hogan and Morgana that he really is on their side.’

‘Well, you would know all about that,’ came the muttered, almost inaudible reply from Ben. She didn’t think she had been meant to hear that. But it wasn’t like this was unexpected. The youngest addition to the team had never quite forgiven her for her part in the Yalta operation. Ros couldn’t care less about his forgiveness – she hadn’t asked for it – but it did make working with him difficult, especially since she was the Section Chief and he had to do as she told him.

She ignored him for now. Later she would find a moment to subtly remind him who exactly was in charge here and that making comments like these was an undermining of her authority. She didn’t think Ben really cared about that, but he sure as hell would think twice when he landed himself in the paper archive for it.

She turned to Lucas. ‘You arranged another meet for tomorrow afternoon, right?’

He nodded. ‘To bring them back Harry’s reply,’ he confirmed.

Ros could hear what he didn’t say. Because there was so much more to this than just bringing back a reply. Tomorrow he would also wriggle his way further in and she did not envy him that position. ‘Then you make that rendezvous,’ she decided, ignoring Harry’s incoherent protest. He had given her this operation and she was not going to give it back.

No one seemed particularly pleased with the outcome of this meeting, all for different reasons. But this had to be done. If this was the only way they could stop Hogan and Morgana from blowing more people to smithereens, then she would do it, no matter what the cost.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

 

The Grid had all but emptied out. Most of the team had gone home. Only Arthur and Merlin were forced to stay in Thames House for their own safety. Well, Arthur was. The Once and Future King had been about to go back to Lucas’s place, but Harry had thrown a fit when he heard that. His reasoning was that they were unable to protect him once he left the building, but everyone with a brain could hear that this was not the real point. Harry already suspected Lucas and that was bothering Ros for reasons she could not yet fully understand.

Her mind drifted back to the conversation she had with Lucas earlier that day. _Colleagues are okay_. That was what they had agreed on. He had been a bit hesitant about that at first, his mind still doubtful about Harry, but in the end he had nodded. Colleagues are okay, even the most senior and the ancient ones.

But it was precisely the last bit of that sentence that bothered her. Merlin behaved as if Lucas was some kind of monster, ready to kill Arthur and bring his body back to his new mistress. He had refused to leave Arthur’s side, who had now taken up residence in a nearby room with a bed. The warlock’s behaviour had become even more suspecting when Lucas had announced he would spend the night on the Grid as well.

Destiny to protect Arthur indeed, Ros thought, glancing at the duo from behind the safety of her computer screen. The worried mother hen keeping an eye on the runaway chick. Now she would not deny that Arthur needed supervision and a lot of it at that, but this was exaggerated.

‘Distrust already.’ Lucas’s wry remark snapped her out of her musings. ‘Coffee, boss?’ He extended a steaming cup. ‘You look like you need it.’

Ros gave him an equally wry look in return. ‘Would it make a difference if I said no?’

Lucas smiled his charming grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Then I’d drink it myself of course. Nothing like a cup of coffee to keep you awake.’

That alerted her to the exhausted impression he was giving. ‘You should go home and rest,’ she told him sternly. Mothering over her officers was not something she liked to do, but Lucas looked positively drained. And it was her responsibility that all her officers were capable of doing their work.

He laughed humourlessly. ‘And what do I go home to?’ The remark was undeniably bitter. ‘I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, Ros.’

She twitched uneasily. This was getting far more personal than she was comfortable with. Someone had once remarked that Ros was about as compassionate as an ice-cube and that had not been far off the mark. She didn’t do people. There was a reason that she didn’t have friends.

So she tried to turn it into a joke. ‘I can always knock you out with that paperweight.’

The smile widened. ‘No, thanks. I don’t really fancy a visit to the hospital.’ He became serious again. ‘Why did you back me up there, Ros?’

She gave him a quizzical look.

‘All the others already think I’m swooning at Morgana’s feet,’ he clarified. ‘You don’t. I think.’ It came out a bit hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure he had gotten the right impression.

The question was a logical one, but it was also far too personal. The whole Yalta affair was highly classified information that only Harry and Ros herself had access to. And she intended to keep it that way. So she deflected the question. ‘I think you have missed out on your royal fan,’ she remarked, pointing at Arthur who was acquainting himself with the miracles of computer equipment, a deep frown in his forehead.

‘That’s different,’ Lucas argued. ‘He’s a good man, I think, but he has no idea what he is doing here.’

She could not argue with that. Arthur didn’t belong in London. But for someone who so obviously didn’t belong, he was determined to understand and hold his own, although Ros suspected he just very much wanted to catch Morgana. It was Merlin that had adapted to this place better than she could have expected.

‘He’s learning.’ It wasn’t like her to be so mild about someone, but she had not yet forgotten that he had stood up for her back at the Home Office when he thought Dolby was unfair in his treatment of her. That had to count for something.

Lucas nodded. ‘You haven’t answered my question, Ros.’ He tried to meet her eyes, but the Section Chief suddenly started to investigate the contents of the file in front of her with a devotion not often seen. ‘Ros? Why did you stand up for me?’ His voice had become almost cajoling now.

 _Because I’ve been where you are. Because no one else did. Because you’re my colleague. Because you’re…_ No, better not go there. _You don’t do friends, Myers_.

In the end she settled for the second option. ‘Because no one else did.’ She all but snapped the words to avoid giving the impression that she cared.

He wasn’t fooled. ‘Only because no one else did? Do you think I’m a traitor too?’

She snorted. ‘Careful,’ she warned him. ‘Someone might start thinking you actually want to be mistaken for a traitor.’

He perched himself up on her desk. ‘It’s strange, though. You’re the most para… wary of the lot of them.’

She was pretty sure he had been about to call her paranoid, but she let it pass by for now. In a way he was even right and it had saved her life more than once. What she didn’t get was what he was getting at. What did he want?

‘Your point?’ she asked with every appearance of boredom.

He shrugged. ‘I just don’t understand.’

‘Colleagues are okay, remember?’ she told him. It wasn’t the truth, not the whole truth at least. ‘Can’t help it if the others have forgotten about it.’

One corner of his mouth curled up as he got up from her desk. ‘Thanks,’ he told her. No one with a bit of hearing could doubt the sincerity in his voice.

‘What on earth should you thank me for?’ she demanded.

‘For caring,’ he told her. ‘And for having faith in me.’ _Even when no one else does_. The words were unspoken, but years in the Service had taught her to read between the lines well enough. Lucas North was an expert at masking his feelings, but she could see how alone he was right now, even while being surrounded by people. In a strange way he reminded her of a stray puppy that desperately wanted someone to care for him.

She made a spur of the moment decision. ‘I understand,’ she told him.

Rage sparked in his eyes and then the shutters came down, so clearly visible that Ros was almost surprised she couldn’t hear them. ‘You can’t!’ he snapped. ‘You have no idea what this is like, being distrusted by everyone, even by your own side. Have you even seen them look at me, Ros?’

She pulled a leaf out of Arthur’s book. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she told him. ‘I know exactly what that feels like. I’ve been there.’

That effectively shut him up, and Merlin and Arthur on the other end of the Grid as well. She had spoken louder than she had intended, but, very much like Lucas, she was fed up with her past that kept creeping up on her, haunting her every step. It was bad enough to have Ben all but accusing her of being a traitor and the CIA rubbing her involvement with Yalta in her face. Lucas telling her she had no idea what she was talking about, even when she knew better how he must feel than anyone else on the Grid, that was just too much.

He was staring at her and she clarified, although in a softer voice: ‘You have heard something about Yalta, right?’

He at least understood that she wasn’t speaking about the geographical Yalta. ‘A complot against the United States, wasn’t it?’

Ros nodded stiffly. ‘I went undercover with them.’

She could see that he knew she was holding back, but he understood, nodding thoughtfully. And she had to admit that her explanation was greatly lacking in detail. Because she had not been undercover there straight away, not until the final showdown. She had gotten involved with them because she believed in what they were doing and because she was more than mad at the CIA for being involved with Zaf’s disappearance.

But Lucas didn’t need to know that and he didn’t ask for the details. And she would never share them, even if he did ask. But it seemed his faith in her was still standing, stronger even maybe, even when his faith in the other members had all but been destroyed by their immediate suspicion.

But he was still on their side, of this Ros was sure. Maybe it took a traitor to recognise another and was that the reason why she was the only one to see that Lucas wasn’t the traitor material. In many ways they were alike, most of all in their devotion to their job. It was more to them than just work. Both their lives revolved around their careers. And it wasn’t by choice. It was only because they had nothing and no one else left.

Ros could see Lucas was about to say something, but she cut him off. ‘Get some sleep,’ she told him briskly. The last thing she wanted was for him to go all emotional on her, or even worse, grateful. ‘I’ll deal with those surveillance reports.’

He made to protest. ‘But…’

‘That is an order,’ she interrupted, now borrowing one of Harry’s favourite phrases.

He gave her a last grateful smile before disappearing.

 

***

 

By the time he got into the car, the nerves had tied his stomach into tight knots again. He had known that at some point even his own colleagues might start to doubt his loyalties. It was only to be expected, he told himself. Not that long ago he had been pretending to be a double agent for the FSB. Combine that with his background and he did indeed make for a very believable traitor.

He just had not believed they would give up on him so soon already. Apart from Arthur, who was far too naïve and trusting for his own good, and Ros they had all believed him to have gone over to Morgana’s side. Lucas knew it was only because of Ros he had been allowed back into the field. The Section Chief was still a mystery, even after her explanation, and Lucas was not entirely sure what her motives were.

He had never before felt so alone as he felt now. Even in Russia he had not felt so isolated. At least than he had the comfort of knowing that he had never betrayed his country. It was one of the few things that had kept him from despair in there. That and the thought of Elizabeta. But Elizabeta had left him and here he was, doing exactly that which he had refused to do for eight years.

His mobile phone started buzzing. He took a look at the screen and then answered it with a curt ‘North.’

‘You are on your way?’ The annoying voice of Bob Hogan, speaking with that awful American accent of his, came through the mobile.

 _As if you wouldn’t know that already_. ‘Where do I go?’ he replied as he waited for the traffic light. The distrust was still there as well. They had refused to give him a location for the second meeting, instead opting on calling him when he was already on the road. Were they afraid that he was still one of Harry’s officers even after the information that he had given them?

‘We’re sending the coordinates now.’ Without a greeting the other end went dead.

The traffic light turned green and he hit the gas, as his mobile gave another bleep. The message contained the coordinates. His GPS system told him it was a place outside London, practically in the middle of nowhere. Lucas wondered whose idea that had been. Both Hogan and Morgana had a streak of paranoia, so it wasn’t entirely unexpected that they wanted to meet in as abandoned a spot as they could find.

The drive down there took three quarters of an hour, giving him far too much time to think. He could still picture Harry’s furious expression as he confronted him about the information he had given Morgana. He had been angry, as he most likely would have been with any member of the team if they pulled a stunt like that. But he was not fooled. He could see and hear the wariness, the distrust that was barely concealed underneath the anger. Maybe his boss did not yet fully believe that he was a traitor – after all he had allowed Ros to continue with the operation – but he was at least on the road to become one.

The other members of the team were less careful with their views, even Malcolm, who he had known since the day he joined MI-5. Worst of all were Ben and Merlin. To be quite honest Lucas did not care much about Ben’s opinion. He hardly knew him at all and anyway, the young man was just that, young. He had not yet a very good idea of what this job sometimes demanded of its officers. It was Merlin that was the big disappointment. Lucas could have said the warlock trusted him, before all this had begun. They were colleagues, on a level that may almost be called friendship. For him to radiate such hostility was painful. It was almost as if he had _expected_ Lucas to turn to Morgana all along.

He hit the steering wheel in frustration, causing a passing driver to give him a queer look. Lucas ignored him. Normally he would have been shocked by losing control of himself like that in public, but right now he had more important things on his mind. He hated this. Good heavens, he _hated_ this. His own side treated him with more distrust than his supposed enemies. It was like the whole Kachimov episode all over again. How many times would he need to prove himself before they would see that he had not betrayed them?

He forced himself not to dwell on that thought. All it would do was undermine his confidence in his own skills. And he knew he still had them. Yesterday he had played a paranoid former CIA man and powerful witch with ease. They had been wary at first, as expected, but in the end they had taken the bait, as he knew they would.

It helped that he arrived at his destination then. It was a farmhouse that had probably been scheduled for demolishing. At any rate it had probably been empty for years. The roof had huge holes in it, some of the windows had been smashed or just broken and the door looked like the gentlest breeze could blow it off its hinges. If it had been dark this too would have been the perfect stage for a horror movie.

But fortunately for him the sun was shining now and the ruined house looked less cramped than that bloody hallway he had been forced to cross yesterday. That did a lot to calm his nerves and keep the horrors of Russia at bay.

But there might be horrors lurking in this house anyway. Morgana and Hogan had both been making demands and apart from a new passport for Hogan, they had all been rejected. Not that Lucas believed that either of them had been expecting Harry to give in, but nonetheless, they were bound not to be pleased.

He parked the car right in front of the house and went in by the front door. That had worked well enough the day before and he didn’t doubt it would work again. They wanted him here, so they would show themselves to him soon enough.

And indeed they did. He crossed the hallway – a wide one this time – into the living room where his hosts were already waiting for him.

‘You’re late,’ Morgana drawled. Arthur’s half-sister was sitting, no lounging was the better word, on the couch in the middle of the room. The piece of furniture was as ruined as its surroundings, but somehow it seemed to fit her.

Lucas produced an apologetic smile. ‘The natural results of a phenomenon called traffic jam, my lady.’ He searched for a mix between respect and nonchalance. It wouldn’t do to be viewed as completely dependent on them. He kept his distance a bit for now. If they thought it was okay for them to be suspicious of him, then in his eyes that gave him the right to treat them the same.

‘Did you bring what I asked for?’ she demanded, even when she could see that he obviously didn’t.

He produced the passport for Bob Hogan. ‘Just the passport, I’m afraid.’

The American’s face darkened, but he could not really be expecting Harry to give him the money as well, could he? These men had worked together in the past. Surely he would know Harry better than that by now. ‘Where’s the money?’

‘Ah, you know what it’s like,’ Lucas replied, leaning against the wall with his hands shoved in his pockets to radiate maximum nonchalance. ‘The whole we-do-not-negotiate-with-terrorists-speech all over again. I might have been pointing out that they actually were doing that at the moment, but…’ He let his voice trail off, ending the speech with a smirk he knew Merlin thought of as creepy.

‘You can tell Harry there will be consequences.’ Hogan was practically fuming, but he did snatch the passport from Lucas’s hands anyway.

‘Oh, you’re clever enough to know that Harry already knows that,’ the Senior Case Officer pointed out. ‘And you also know that he’s intending to use me to get to you.’

Lucas couldn’t help but feel contempt for this man. He was, as Ros had so accurately described, a selfish self-serving bloody bastard. And if Lucas had to add one more quality to that list than it would be that Bob Hogan was also absolutely ruthless and lacked something that even looked like a conscience. If he thought he was helped with it, he would sell out both Lucas and Morgana to the highest bidder without as much as a moment’s hesitation.

But his partner in crime was different. Hogan did what he did for the money and for revenge, but Morgana’s motives were of a different nature altogether. Where Hogan only wanted revenge for things he had all but inflicted upon himself, Morgana craved the revenge for things that had been done to her without her deserving it. Everything he knew about her told him she had been persecuted purely for possessing magic, something she had no control over whatsoever. Her friends had turned on her, leaving her all alone in the world. And Lucas knew what that felt like. He could relate to her on a personal level and while this frightened him somewhat, he also knew that this would make his job a lot easier.

Because they had so many similarities in their past, they could relate to one another. Morgana might even be persuaded to trust him because of this. But this great advantage was also his greatest weakness. He already was an ideal candidate for betrayal and if he wasn’t careful, this witch might pull him through Traitor’s Gate. He would neither be the first nor the last to go down that road because of personal reasons like this.

‘But he won’t be able to use you,’ Morgana said. ‘Will he?’ She too spoke with an ease that Lucas nonetheless thought of as forced. She still wasn’t entirely sure about him, or his motives.

‘You know the answer to that, my lady,’ he replied diplomatically, mentally snorting at himself. _Keep this up and you might pass for a bloody politician_.

‘You didn’t bring me what I asked,’ she continued.

He gave another apologetic smile, although it came closer to a grin. ‘Yeah, Harry didn’t seem to think that handing over foreign royalty to terrorists was a wise move.’ This point had not even been taken into consideration for a second, as Morgana might have guessed anyway. ‘Told him it was a bad idea, though. We could have gotten rid of two of the biggest trouble-makers in one go.’ He managed to make it sound as if he was genuinely sorry he still had to put up with them.

Or maybe he didn’t succeed all that well. Morgana got up and moved in front of him, studying his face intently. ‘You don’t really hate them, do you, Lucas?’ Her eyes were cold and calculating, but there was a loneliness underneath the ice that he understood all too well.

And so he opted on answering truthfully. ‘Well, they are a bunch of troublemakers,’ he repeated. ‘But I can’t honestly see what the fuss is all about. The pair of them look rather insignificant.’ And they did, on first sight.

Morgana shook her head. ‘How wrong you are.’ A sad smile graced her features. ‘You do not yet know enough about them to hate them as you should.’

Something in that speech made him feel that she did have those reasons. Arthur and Merlin had done something to her that had caused her to despise them as she did. And Lucas knew better than to think that the guests in Thames House were saints. Arthur was a warrior. If he needed proof of that he only had to remember the way the king of Camelot had attacked that bomber. That had not been the work of an amateur. He was bound to have done some things in his life that would have the human rights groups voice their disapproval if they were ever to find out.

As for Merlin, Lucas didn’t think he could handle a weapon to save his life. If anything, he was the king’s right-hand man, the brains behind the throne. Clumsy and good-natured at first sight he may be, and undoubtedly a loyal friend when you were on the same side, but Lucas had made a point of never underestimating the warlock, right the very minute he had found out about the man’s magic. His most remarkable characteristic was that he was so very protective of Arthur. As soon as he feared something or someone may be threatening the king, he went into full bodyguard mode and then nothing and no one mattered except Arthur. Lucas had the strong feeling that he would sacrifice all his new allies in a heartbeat if he believed he could save his king in that way.

‘Do I need to know?’ he asked, still using that relaxed tone, even if he by now was very much on edge. And he was close to the edge as well. Merlin’s immediate hostility and the others’ suspicion had already pushed him dangerously close. Some part of him even screamed to do what they already feared he had done and it terrified him. Did he even know who he was and who he was supposed to be anymore?

Morgana walked around him at a slow pace. If he hadn’t known better he’d have said she watched some modern day movies for inspiration. ‘I think you do.’ She sighed. ‘You’re wary of me, are you not?’

‘I am wary of everyone,’ he replied, almost automatically. ‘I’m a spook. It’s in my nature. It might even be a part of my job description.’

This answer both pleased and displeased her. ‘Yet you do not think Arthur and Merlin are a danger to you.’

He snorted. ‘An arrogant king with more mouth than brains and a sorcerer who stumbles over his own feet every five minutes?’ He let out some humourless laughter. ‘Those are hardly the types to be afraid of.’ And he meant it. They didn’t even rank in the top ten of most dangerous people he had ever met. That was reserved for his FSB interrogators. ‘They’re a nuisance.’

Now it was Morgana’s turn to laugh bitterly. ‘I don’t suppose that clumsy nuisance ever told you the truth, did he?’ Her voice, although still cold and full of hatred, was now laced with hurt as well.

She lost him there. ‘About what?’ he questioned.

She studied his face closely. ‘He hasn’t told you,’ she realised. ‘Didn’t he tell you that we used to be friends?’

That came as a surprise. No, he had not known about that. Merlin had said several things about Morgana, but never once had he made mention of that. He was sure he would have remembered something that significant.

‘He didn’t,’ Morgana concluded. His silence was all the answer that she needed. ‘Of course he didn’t. Because if he had, he might have needed to explain why he poisoned me. We were friends, he said. He even pretended to care about me, promised to keep my magic a secret from everyone, only to betray me later.’

She had begun to walk around him again, so he turned on his heels to see if she meant what she said. And he didn’t like what he saw, not at all. He knew how to spot a liar and Morgana Pendragon was definitely telling the truth.

‘This surprises you?’ The tone was still as bitter as it had been before, even more so maybe.

If he was really honest, no, it did not really surprise him. Not really. He of course didn’t know of the circumstances that surrounded the event in question, but he thought it would be safe to assume that Arthur’s life had been in some kind of danger and that Merlin somehow believed that poisoning Morgana was the best way to deal with the crisis.

‘No,’ he said. There was some darkness in the sorcerer. He had sensed it ever since he had come back from the first meet. In a way it was even scaring him. ‘Although it doesn’t explain why you hate Arthur so much, my lady. Isn’t he your brother?’

That resulted in a wry smile. ‘My so-called brother thinks it is okay to slaughter my kind just because they possess magic. Tell me, Lucas, has he told you about that?’

His stomach turned to ice. Arthur had made mention of magic being outlawed. Never once had he told his new allies what he did with those that were caught practising it. And it didn’t seem to fit in with his personality at all. Unless he saw it as his duty. Now that was something that would make sense.

It didn’t make it any less sick though. Before now he had thought of the dynamic duo as good. They might have their bad sides, as they all had, but nothing out of the ordinary. He had been about to think of them as colleagues. If anything, Morgana’s revelation destroyed every possibility of that.

He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, balancing on it. If he fell he didn’t know if there was a way back for him. So far he had refrained from doing what some part of him felt to be only right, eight long years of it. But somehow it had been easier to decide then. This was entirely different.

But the decision needed to be made, so he took a deep breath and then made up his mind. ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ he asked, face perfectly blank.

Morgana eyed him with surprise. ‘You offer me your services?’ The surprise was audible in her voice as well.

‘You know I do, Morgana.’ It was the first time he really used her name, but it felt rather natural to do so.

‘I’m still not sure that we can trust him.’ Bob Hogan, who had watched the scene intently from the side, finally spoke up. He was definitely not yet convinced of Lucas’s loyalty, if his penetrating stare was anything to go by.

Lucas met it with perfect calm. ‘Then test me,’ he challenged without as much as a moment’s hesitation.

Hogan and Morgana exchanged looks and then both nodded. ‘Very well,’ Morgana agreed. ‘Then I want you to bring me what your boss refused to give to me. I want you to bring me Arthur Pendragon.’


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

 

It was rather crowded, not to mention cramped, around the bowl of water that had been placed on the table of the meeting room, so Arthur kept his distance. He didn’t feel comfortable around these people. He never had and now he doubted he ever would.

Because this was just wrong. There was no other word for it. Harry had agreed that they would not secretly spy on Lucas’s next meeting at the Senior Case Officer’s insisting. He had argued that Hogan and Morgana would be aware of the possibility and he really needed them to trust him if they were going to make this work. Arthur understood that, as did Ros.

The Section Chief too was standing a little aside, arms folded across her chest and a dismissive scowl on her face, the very image of disapproval. As it was, she was his only real ally in this, the only one who still believed that Lucas was still on their side. He had no idea what her motives were, but he would not question them, not when he wasn’t sure of his own.

Oh, who was he fooling? He knew exactly why he was doing this. Lucas was like a friend to him, even when the spook kept insisting he didn’t do friends. But Arthur remembered that Lucas had been the only one that first night who had treated Merlin and him as equals, not as if they were too stupid to understand this day and age. Oh well, Jo hadn’t been too bad either, but she had been too busy with Merlin to talk to Arthur. Lucas had taken it upon himself to take the king under his wing, helping him to adapt to this place, letting him stay in his home and guiding him through that horrible operation that had so nearly gone fatally wrong. For all intents and purposes they were friends.

And his friend was out there, risking his life while the rest of them went along and broke about every promise they ever made to him. It was as infuriating as it was unfair.

The spell that Merlin had cast upon the water also enabled them to hear what was being said. So Arthur did hear what Morgana told Lucas about him and he heard the spook agreeing to delivering him to the dynamic duo, as Ros mockingly called them, but it was all an act. Surely the others must know that as well? So their shocked hissing and gasping felt completely out of place and unjustified. Could they honestly not see what was so painfully obvious to the king of Camelot?

‘What on earth is wrong with you?’ he demanded, unable to keep the anger inside any longer. ‘Wasn’t it the point of this operation that he pretended to be an actual traitor?’

The meeting had as good as ended anyway, so Merlin put an end to the spell. And now about every officer of Section D turned their head in Arthur’s direction, most of them giving him incredulous looks, as if asking him if he was even in his right mind.

But as far as Arthur knew, he was and this distrust against Lucas was making him feel positively livid with rage. There was nothing wrong at all with questioning their attitude towards this operation. All of them had agreed to it, so they shouldn’t be going back on it now, not when Lucas was doing such an excellent job of it.

It was silent for some time, but in the end it was Merlin who spoke first. ‘Arthur, he just agreed to hand you over to them.’

Arthur snorted. Just when Merlin had become so protective of him was not yet clear to him, but he did know it was starting to annoy him, a lot. ‘What else did you want him to do, _Mer_ lin?’ he inquired. ‘Tell them to go to hell with all their evil schemes?’ At the moment he couldn’t care less that he was stealing one of Ros’s phrases.

‘He betrayed my secret.’ The warlock’s tone was full of hurt and Arthur guessed that this was the honest reason why he was so wary of Lucas.

‘I know that, Merlin.’ The irritation started to boil over and he knew he sounded like the arrogant prince he had once been, but right now he could not care less. ‘But he already explained he didn’t have much of a choice in that anyway, didn’t he?’

Merlin’s eyes sparked with a rage that didn’t seem to suit him at all. ‘He could have told us, though, couldn’t he?’ The air all but crackled with anger and Arthur suddenly wondered if it would be dangerous to enrage a sorcerer.

But it was the very least of his worries. ‘You’re hardly the one to complain about people keeping secrets,’ he threw back. The words surprised him. He had accepted Merlin’s magic, hadn’t he? He had not made a fuss about it and in all honesty, he didn’t want to either. But somewhere deep down there was this nagging feeling of hurt that the servant had not trusted him enough to confide in him. That was the real thing that hurt here and now, with tempers already on an all-time low and both of them still practically running on coffee and adrenaline, it all came bursting out.

Because this was what Arthur’s problem really was. It wasn’t the fact that Merlin had magic; it was the fact that he had obviously not trusted Arthur with the knowledge of it. He had only learned of it when there had been no other choice and that hurt, more than Arthur was willing to admit even to himself. He had believed that they were friends, that he knew Merlin as well as the servant knew him.

And now it turned out that he didn’t know him at all. Not only was there the magic, that was pretty much impossible to overlook now, but there was also a darker side to Merlin that Arthur had never dreamed would be there. Merlin was many things in his opinions: clumsy, good-humoured and sometimes downright rude, but never that, never dark. Yet here that side was, out in the open for everyone to see. He had all but wished for Morgana’s death and he was far too quick to believe the worst about Lucas as well. Arthur didn’t doubt that Merlin’s intentions were good – because it was next to impossible to not see his devotion to the king – but it didn’t help that he started seeing enemies practically everywhere.

It frightened Arthur, that protectiveness. It gave him the feeling of being suffocated, being kept in some kind of cage while other people did the dirty work. And that was not the kind of man Arthur Pendragon wished to be.

‘I was just trying to keep you safe, you dollophead!’ Merlin too spoke in a harsher voice than usual, undoubtedly the result of the demanding operation and a serious lack of sleep.

‘I can look after myself,’ Arthur snapped back. He realised they were getting off topic and quickly returned to his main point. ‘And you’re wrong about Lucas. Good grief, Merlin, you’ve worked with him, didn’t you? Shouldn’t you know better?’ Taken into consideration that Merlin himself had on one more than one occasion been very creative with the truth, he of all people should know that telling lies was a necessary part of the job he did. Admittedly it all was a bit different in this century, but surely the basics were the same?

‘Then you should have seen his darker side as well,’ the warlock countered, earning him several confirming nods, although some were reluctant, from the team. Only Ros was still on Arthur’s side, it would seem.

‘Is that the pot calling the kettle black?’ he inquired mockingly. He could hardly even believe they were having this discussion. ‘You haven’t heard me accusing you of being on Morgana’s side, despite the fact that you have magic, have you?’ He supposed that could be seen as a below the belt remark, but he could not care less. The unfairness of the situation was getting to him badly.

Merlin’s eyes sparked in rage and for a moment Arthur thought he saw a flash of gold in them. But it was only a moment and then it was gone again. ‘You’re not exactly an expert at detecting traitors,’ he sneered, all politeness long since forgotten. ‘You only admitted Morgana’s treason when she took Camelot, didn’t you?’

Merlin might as well have physically hit him. Arthur staggered back, staring at his servant in shock. And by the looks of it Merlin had shocked himself with his bold words as well.

Something had changed between them in that moment. Arthur was not good with subtleties at all, but this was hardly subtle. Somehow this moment marked the end of the relationship as they had known it so far. It had been threatening to come to this ever since Arthur had found out about the servant’s magic and now the moment was here. Before now they had been master and servant. But ever since Arthur had accepted the younger man’s magical powers they had been equals, even if they didn’t act like it. They both were powerful in their own right, albeit in another way. It would be unrealistic for them to continue as they had before. But that didn’t mean Arthur liked it or accepted it, at all. And now a line had just been crossed.

But he was lost for words, Merlin’s poisonous remark having robbed him of the ability to speak. And so he left, the only thing he could come up with. He all but ran out of the meeting room. It was hard to slam these doors, but he slid them shut with as much force as he could manage to land the message home.

He had no idea where he should even go, so in the end he settled for his own desk. He could hear the others following him out hardly a minute later, but he had no desire for company just yet, so he grabbed the nearest file and lost himself in its contents.

Dealing with reports was something he could actually do. Being the king of Camelot required that he sometimes spent entire days reading the blasted things. And it would be a welcome change to do something useful. Since he was not permitted to leave Thames House, his usefulness had been drastically reduced and Arthur wasn’t used to doing nothing. It just didn’t suit him.

He was already halfway through the first paragraph when he realised it was Lucas’s file he was reading. The king had no idea how it had ended up on his desk. He hadn’t put it there himself anyway. But whoever it was that had put it there, he was grateful to them, because it meant he was provided with the opportunity to get to know a little more about Lucas. He had a feeling he would be needing that kind of information before this was all over.

‘Interesting read?’ Arthur was only startled when someone placed a cup of coffee in front of him. His gaze shot up and he found himself staring into the seemingly emotionless eyes of Ros Myers.

He nodded. ‘Did you put it there?’

He was rewarded with the smallest of nods. ‘I thought you had a right to know,’ she told him brusquely. He heard what she didn’t say. He had a right to know because he was one of the few that still supported him and they would need all the information he could get to keep doing that. Because that was how conflicts were decided here: whoever knew most, was most likely to come out victorious. He supposed that the same was also true for Camelot, although to a lesser extent.

‘You don’t believe he is a traitor either, do you?’ He knew he was treading on thin ice here – because this question was probably far more personal than she was comfortable with – but he needed to know for sure.

Again she replied with a nod. ‘Why don’t you?’ she demanded.

He snorted. ‘I am not a naïve idiot,’ he defended himself, knowing the Section Chief took him for one.

‘I never said you were, did I?’ One eyebrow went up in a quizzical manner, reminding the king strongly of a physician he knew well. Her stare made him feel quite uncomfortable. His father had been capable of as icy a stare as she.

He glanced back at the report. ‘He is just not a traitor,’ he managed in the end. Realising just how naïve _that_ sounded, he added: ‘It says here that he was tortured for eight years without breaking. It just wouldn’t make sense for him to betray his country within hardly an hour’s time after that.’

The smallest hint of a smile graced Ros’s features, as if he was a student that had answered a question correctly.

That made him wonder, though. ‘Why do you believe him?’ he questioned.

But that was a bridge too far. For some reason this question had been a little too personal. The shutters came down immediately and the smile disappeared. ‘None of your bloody business,’ she all but snapped. ‘I just do.’

There had to be more to it than that, but Arthur did value his life and he kept his silence. The last few days had taught him more wisdom and tact than his entire life in Camelot. Or maybe that was just the natural result of being thrown in all this mess. He didn’t really know and he couldn’t really care either. All he knew was that if he survived this he would come out stronger and wiser, although that seemed a small consolation if he took the recent events into account.

‘So,’ he began, a little hesitantly. ‘We are allies?’

Ros seemed to be about to slap that down, but then changed her mind. ‘Allies,’ she agreed, even though she spoke the word as if it was some kind of disease, something she would have had avoided if given the chance.

‘I’ll try to keep that idiot in check,’ he replied by way of a peace offering.

The Section Chief’s face had gone back to its unreadable expression. ‘You’d better,’ she threatened.

She had left before Arthur had gotten the chance to react, leaving him with the file and the coffee.

 

***

 

Section D seemed to have split into two camps, Merlin observed when they had all been gathered in the meeting room again. One of the camps was on Lucas’s side and this was the smallest camp, made up by Ros, Arthur and Lucas himself. The other camp consisted of the rest of the team and was obviously not as charmed by Lucas’s actions.

They were seated on opposite ends of the table. Ros and Arthur had made it their job to take a seat on either side of the Senior Case Officer, trying and failing to make that look perfectly coincidental. Connie, Jo and Ben were occupying the other side of the table, leaving Harry and Merlin to sit at the heads of the table. The only one absent of the core team here was Malcolm, who had gotten all touchy-feely with his computer again, doing something with the CCTV. Or at least that was what the warlock thought he had been saying. There had been so many complicated words thrown in with the explanation that Merlin had soon lost track of what he was saying. The fact that no one else seemed to understand him either had made Merlin feel slightly better about himself.

But right now Malcolm was the very least of his worries. He had far more pressing matters to concern himself with, like a traitor on the Grid and his recent fight with Arthur. Lucas did not worry him too much. He knew that he could easily deal with the man if the situation asked for it. It was Arthur that had him really stressed right now. Merlin knew it was his job to keep the king safe. It was his destiny and nothing could ever make him doubt that, not anymore. But Arthur was far too naïve, trusting and stubborn for his own good. Would it really kill him to at least admit the danger he was in? And Lucas was only making it even worse. Arthur should be suspicious of him, even if he could obviously not bring himself to hate the man.

But Merlin couldn’t blame him for the lack of hate. He was as of yet incapable of feeling that himself. The situation was far too much like the situation with Morgana for that. He remembered all too well what that had been like. Like Lucas, factors that she had no control over had made her betray everyone she had previously loved. In a way both Morgana and Lucas were victims of a horribly unfair situation. It did, however, not change the fact that they both presented a real danger to both Camelot and Britain. Being held back by his feelings was not going to help them. No matter how it pained him, he had to be firm in this.

He realised only that he had missed a part of the conversation, when the calm and composed voice of Lucas pulled him out of his musings. The Senior Case Officer was apparently answering a question either Harry or Ros had just asked him.

‘There is not much news.’ Lucas rubbed his chin. He was pale and had dark circles under his eyes, giving every impression of exhaustion. ‘Hogan took the passport, threatened with dire consequences if we didn’t deliver the money to him as well. Morgana isn’t too pleased either. She apparently expects us to deliver visiting royalty to her without as much as a second thought.’

Arthur huffed. ‘That’s Morgana for you.’

The hint of a smile was visible on Lucas’s face. ‘She is rather demanding,’ he admitted. ‘And she has her sights set on the pair of you.’

So far he had been remarkably truthful, something that in all honesty surprised Merlin. But then, this man had years of experience in this game. He might be planning to give them only the bare minimum and keep the really important information to himself. This did not mean that he was on their side and Merlin would rather die than let his guard down.

‘And what did you say?’ he questioned.

Lucas laughed and leaned back in his chair. ‘I told them I’d give you to her, of course.’

There was nothing _of course_ in that and Merlin was about to tell him that, but Arthur was quicker. The king of Camelot had been in a very bad mood ever since they had spied on the meeting and it had gradually gotten worse, its climax in the shouting match about an hour ago. Merlin had gone over to Arthur’s temporary desk after Ros had finished her conversation with Arthur, but the Once and Future King had pretended that he didn’t see his servant. He had kept his eyes on the file he was reading and didn’t even acknowledge the other’s presence. And when Merlin had tried to get his attention by calling his name, the only reaction had consisted of a snapped and very irritable ‘Can’t you see I’m busy, Merlin?’

And things hadn’t exactly improved since then. Arthur now sat in his chair, a scowl on his face that seemed an exact copy of Harry’s most disapproving stare. ‘We know,’ he said loudly.

A deathly quiet settled over the team as every head swivelled in his direction. _Arthur, don’t do this_ , Merlin begged with his eyes. The situation was bad enough as it was.

Arthur either didn’t see or didn’t care. ‘We spied on the meeting,’ the king clarified in reply to Lucas’s quizzical look. ‘With Merlin’s bowl of water. Because some people here don’t seem to think you can manage without constant supervision.’ The disapproval of this course of action was clear as daylight. It was in his posture, his eyes and in his voice. Only a fool would have missed it.

And Lucas, although not a fool, did not react to it. Not to Arthur at least. In a matter of seconds at least a dozen emotions flashed in his eyes, even as his face remained calm. In the end it stuck with an angry distrust that sent cold shivers down Merlin’s spine. When he looked like this no doubts could remain. This man was dangerous, very much so and the warlock had been wise not to underestimate him.

‘Distrust!’ he spat the word out as if it was the single most disgusting thing in the world. ‘I suppose this tells me all I need to know about whether or not you trust me, Harry.’

The head of the section looked like his officer had physically hit him, but he met his glare with ease. ‘I did what I had to,’ he replied. ‘You were out on a limb there, Lucas. We needed to keep an eye on you in case they decided to harm you.’ Harry’s tone was filled with an almost fatherly concern.

And that was part of the reason why they had acted as they had, even if it wasn’t the entire truth. And Lucas knew that. ‘Don’t,’ he warned. ‘Don’t you dare lie to me, Harry.’

‘Lucas…’ Harry tried again.

This time it was the other man that slammed his fist on the table. ‘No, don’t you dare. You don’t trust me. You can at least be honest to me about it.’ The tone was both angry and cajoling now, an unspoken plea for trust. ‘You didn’t think I’d tell you everything about that meeting.’ The anger had completely taken over now. ‘Is that why you weren’t exactly in a hurry to get me out of Russia either?’

A collective gasp was the result of those snarled words. Harry was looking like he had seen a ghost and Merlin understood at least part of the reason for that. He had already learned that Lucas’s time in prison was a difficult subject. There was a lot of hurt there, at least enough to make Lucas a credible candidate for defection, a bit too credible even. It had however never been spoken like that.

And Merlin didn’t know why he did it, but he stepped in. Harry was after all not too bad. Merlin respected him and his motives, even if he wasn’t too fond of the man and his manners. ‘He means it,’ he said quickly.

Lucas now turned his attention to him. ‘Is it true?’ he demanded.

Something told him this had nothing to do whatsoever with the current subject. ‘Is what true?’

‘You poisoned her.’ It was more of an accusation than a question.

And Lucas was not the only one looking at him anymore. The entire team now stared at him. And Merlin was really not sure he was comfortable with that. This was a subject that he hoped would never come up, not only because of the horror of it, but because he could hardly face himself. Poisoning Morgana was the worst thing he had ever done in his life, and that was saying a lot. She had trusted him and he had tricked her into drinking that poison. By now he was convinced she hadn’t had a clue at the time; she had not known she was the one that was causing the entire population to fall asleep, although she may have come to suspect it at some point. She had been alone and scared out of her wits, but instead of trying to explain the situation to her, he had poisoned her.

The worst thing about that was maybe that he did not regret his actions, not really. It had been a choice between Morgana and all of Camelot. It had not been much of a choice. He knew which one should come first, no matter how it broke his heart. But he had hoped that at least these people would understand. It would seem he had been wrong.

‘That’s beside the point,’ he replied stiffly in the end. He couldn’t talk about it, he just couldn’t.

‘Good grief.’ The shocked words came from Arthur. ‘You did, didn’t you?’ Shock was evident on his face, along with that look of betrayal that Merlin had so long been dreading.

Lucas, next to him, was as disgusted. ‘You sanctimonious bastard,’ he hissed. The words felt like a physical attack, forcing Merlin deeper into his chair. ‘You dare accuse me when your own actions caused her to become what she is now? How dare you?’ The man’s fists clenched and unclenched.

The realisation that this was exactly what he had already feared made his chest hurt. There was so much anger, so much hurt and resentment. Merlin had seen it all before. He had seen it and he had made all the wrong choices back then. But not this time. This time he would make sure the danger was stopped before it was allowed to grow. Arthur would be safe, even if it meant the king would hate him for it. It was the only way.

‘You are on her side,’ he threw back. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the shocked reactions from the rest of the team, but they didn’t seem to matter. ‘You never planned to just pretend to work with her. You already are.’

‘Merlin…’ The warning voice could have belonged to anyone. He didn’t pay them any attention.

‘But you won’t get him,’ he went on, his gaze fixed on the traitor, who met his eyes with as icy a look Merlin had ever seen. ‘Whatever it takes, I will stop you.’


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

 

 _What a mess_. That seemed to be the only description that fit the situation. Arthur was no stranger to crises and disasters, but this one seemed to beat them all. Already people had died because of this. Two people had died in the so-called Al-Qaeda attack and the death count for the station explosion was currently on thirty-three, although there were so many heavily injured people that this number was expected to go up before the week was out.

Arthur turned away from the television in disgust. A reporter was telling them there was still a search on for the culprits and he urged the public that if they should see them they should alert the police immediately. So far, there had been a lot of sightings of both Hogan and Morgana, although, if the reports should be believed, they were capable of being in at least ten places at once. And Morgana may be a powerful witch, but it went beyond even her to be in multiple places at the same time.

He shoved the latest report away from him in frustration. This was never going to work. They would not find Morgana like this. She was too clever and too powerful to be uncovered by conventional means. If that had been the way, his countless patrols would already have tracked her down.

But even if they managed to find her and lock her up, these cells could never hold her. She’d just transport herself out of it in less than a minute and they’d be back to square one. It was like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. It was never ever going to work.

And that was what they needed Lucas for. He was their way in. Unfortunately Ros and Lucas himself seemed to be the only ones to share that vision. After the shouting match in the meeting room Harry had pulled Lucas off the case, claiming he was unfit to go back in there. They would abort the operation and find another way to catch Morgana. Lucas had slunk back in his seat in shock for a moment and then he had left, shutting the door with as much force as Arthur himself had done earlier that day.

The room had emptied out eventually and Harry and Ros had disappeared into the section head’s office while the rest of the team started working on alternative plans. It was probably a good thing no sound could come through those doors, because by the looks of things both Harry and Ros were shouting. Arthur hoped to God the Section Chief could knock some sense into her boss’s head. He didn’t even know what mess they would find themselves in if they lost their one way of knowing what Morgana was up to.

His eyes scanned the room. Most officers had disappeared behind a computer screen again. Merlin too had tried to learn what he could and was now assisting Jo with whatever it was that she was doing. Arthur grimaced. Merlin of all people should have understood what Lucas was doing. He had been spying for many years himself. He had pretended for years that he was someone he was clearly not. Of all people he should have been able to relate to Lucas and Arthur could not for the life of him figure out why he did not. There was a hostility there that he thought both unfamiliar and scary.

He got up, sighing in frustration again. He needed coffee if he wanted to get something done. A break would have been even better, but the way things were now, that was out of the question. He would have to make do with the next best thing. The kitchen was empty, but he knew how the machines worked now, so he didn’t need help anyway.

Arthur looked at the Grid, seeing Lucas sit all on his own. He pretended to read some kind of file, but Arthur recognised the signs of someone who was distracted. He was so himself on occasion, although for other reasons entirely. Arthur had trouble focusing on any kind of report, but the Senior Case Officer wasn’t the kind of person to get distracted. He was too devoted to this job.

Arthur tried to imagine what it would be like to be actually one of these people, to have to lie about who you were all the time, to have your friends look at you like you were the enemy. It seemed horrible.

A scaring thought forced itself into his head. What if by treating Lucas like a traitor they would truly drive him right into Morgana’s waiting arms? It wouldn’t be the first time something like this happened. Had they not forced Morgana towards Morgause by acting as they had?

But he was not in a hurry to let that happen. So he took a second cup and all but marched over to Lucas’s desk, placing the thing forcefully down, determined to make this work. Lucas would not need to betray this team, not as long as Arthur Pendragon had a say in the matter. ‘Coffee?’

The spook looked up. ‘Arthur,’ he acknowledged. The king had trouble determining whether it sounded wary or just exhausted. He allowed himself to think it was the last. ‘Why did you do that?’

Arthur frowned. ‘Do what?’ He copied a popular habit on the Grid and perched himself on the edge of the desk, because there didn’t seem to be a chair nearby.

‘Tell me that you were spying on the meet,’ Lucas clarified. The tone was definitely wary now.

Uh oh. Arthur was not good at this kind of thing. Telling people that he actually cared about what happened to them had never been his strong point. It had taken him years before he had been able to really say ‘I love you’ to Guinevere and his longstanding friendship with Merlin still had to be acknowledged in words. Arthur was a man of action, not of words. That was why it had been perfectly natural for him to stand up for his new friend in the meeting room, especially since he was too furious to really care about anything else. Explaining his motivations to said friend was another matter entirely.

‘It was only fair,’ he replied eventually with a casual shrug of the shoulders. ‘You should have been informed of the plans.’

Lucas gave a humourless snort of laughter. ‘They don’t trust me,’ he told the king.

 _Then they’re fools_. ‘Ros does,’ he felt obliged to point out. From where they were sitting they could see the Section Chief slam her fist on Harry’s desk in a perfect imitation of its owner’s favourite gesture.

Lucas nodded thoughtfully. ‘She’s the only one.’ The wariness had turned to bitterness now, laced with resentment.

Arthur sipped his coffee, using that to hide behind and delay the moment he needed to say something.

As it turned out, he didn’t have to. ‘Is it true?’ Lucas asked again. ‘Is it true that you execute people with magic?’

The same question had been thrown at Merlin and Arthur had seen how his servant’s refusal to answer that had angered the distressed spook. Arthur might not be the most sensitive person around – and if he was in a good mood he might even admit to that himself – but he was not about to make that same mistake. ‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘But it is a little more complicated than Morgana tried to make it look.’ And that was the understatement of the year.

Lucas’s demanding stare told him to go on.

‘They were my father’s laws,’ he explained, fully aware of how lame it sounded. Even to his ears it sounded like an excuse. ‘My mother died because of magic, so then my father outlawed it. We call it the Great Purge these days. My father tracked down and killed every magic-user he could get his hands on.’

He had tried his hardest not to think about that for as long as he had known about it. Deep down there had always been a voice telling him that there was something very much wrong with that. Facing it made his own role in it all even more disgusting.

He stored it away. Now was not the time to review his policies. ‘He made a lot of enemies that way. A lot of sorcerers had grievances that they took out on Camelot, my father or me. I had never seen someone use magic for good until Merlin revealed his powers.’ He shook his head. ‘And I am not even sure how many good sorcerers are out there. Just look at Morgana and what she uses her powers for.’

It was silent for a while. Lucas stared to a point in the distance. ‘Still, why persecute Morgana? You had known her all your life, hadn’t you?’ Arthur could hear the question that wasn’t asked, the one that was really relevant in this particular discussion. _Why did you turn on one of your friends?_

‘We didn’t know,’ Arthur replied. Something stung in his chest. He thought it might be regret, or maybe just plain old sadness and hurt. ‘She kept it from us for fear of what my father might do to her if he were to find out. I guess Merlin knew, but he never said a word. By the time I learned of Morgana’s magic she had taken over Camelot with an undead army, claiming the crown for her own.’

Recounting that tale, however brief, still made him sad. It was that particular crisis that had sent his father over the edge, made him lose his mind. Uther Pendragon may have died in body only a few short months ago, but his mind had been gone for a year even then.

He snapped out of it. Now was definitely not the time to wallow in his memories. It was his job now to make Lucas understand what had really happened. ‘She might claim freedom for her kind, but she was a more ruthless ruler than even my father in the days of the Great Purge. She executed town’s people when the knights refused to pledge their allegiance to her, she had the farmers’ crops burned when they refused to accept her as their rightful monarch…’ The horrors of those days were beyond count and it had taken the people long to recover from it. Arthur knew, because he had been there to help them to get over it. It had been him and his knights that went to the outlying villages to distribute food, helped to rebuild houses or just were there to hear the people’s stories. ‘I’m not saying that all my laws are right, but Morgana was even worse for the kingdom. Under my father’s rule there was peace and prosperity. For all his faults he really tried to do what was best for the people.’

Arthur didn’t think he had ever spoken so long about something that was so intensely personal. It was both relieving and frightening. Nobody really knew what was going on inside his head, except for Guinevere, but in her case it was intuition, so that didn’t really count. He had not even voiced these things to Merlin, who he considered his closest, maybe only, friend, although he wasn’t even that sure about that now.

Lucas had gone quiet as well. He sipped from his coffee, his eyes on his computer screen, although Arthur doubted he really saw what was on there. There was a pensive look in his eyes. Arthur could not for the life of him figure out what the other man was thinking. Merlin had such a look as well sometimes. It was like a mental piece of armour, impossible to penetrate.

He decided to leave the spy to think it all over. He supposed it was a lot to take in. So he got off the desk and grabbed his coffee.

‘Wait,’ Lucas’s voice said when he was already several steps away.

Arthur turned around. ‘Yes?’

‘Thank you,’ the spook told him. Only a fool would miss out on the sincerity in his voice and, no matter what Merlin liked to think, Arthur Pendragon was by no means a fool. Lucas was truly grateful, even when Arthur wasn’t one hundred percent certain what exactly he was grateful for.

‘You’re welcome,’ he replied, a sense of relief growing within him. This made him believe that not all was lost, that maybe there was still a way they would be able to pull this off. ‘I am on your side, Lucas.’

The smallest hint of a smile graced his face. The tension seemed to lift a little.

The reprieve was short-lived, however. ‘Lucas! Arthur! In here, _NOW_!’ Harry’s best commander voice yelled at them. He didn’t even give the pair of them the chance to react, already marching back into his office.

The two men exchanged a glance. Lucas was already on full alert again, the expressionless mask firmly back in place. Only his eyes revealed the smallest hint of panic and fear. All Arthur’s newfound optimism abandoned him as quickly as it had grown.

 

***

 

Ros was too restless to sit down. So in the end she settled for leaning against the door of Harry’s office. That had the additional bonus that she could oversee the situation perfectly. Although she had to admit that this would probably have worked better if the other occupants of the room sat down. As it was, only one chair in the room was being used, by Harry of course. Lucas was leaning against the other door, directly opposite Ros, and Arthur had positioned himself in front of Harry’s office.

No one spoke, but the tension in the room spoke volumes for them. There was ice-cold disapproval from the king, but it was mainly directed at Harry. Nothing new there. Arthur hadn’t made it a secret he strongly disagreed with Harry’s operational decisions, believing that he was making a big mistake pulling Lucas out. As it happened, Ros agreed with him. She just had the good sense to keep her grievances more or less private. She would never question Harry’s judgement in front of his team, something Arthur clearly had no problems with whatsoever. He still stared at her boss as if he could command him by the sheer power of his gaze. Unfortunately, in this case, that only worked on his subjects and not on the head of Section D.

Lucas was tense as well, albeit for completely different reasons. If Ros’s assessment of the situation was true and Lucas did view this operation as the way to prove himself to Section D, then this was an absolute nightmare to him. Harry had pulled him off the operation because he was ‘clearly incapable to handle the demands of this operation.’ That had sounded harsh even to Ros, who after all wasn’t known for her social niceties.

Now her colleague stood against the door, rubbing his chin absent-mindedly. Ros had come to learn that he always did that whenever he was nervous or on edge. And he was now. Harry had just robbed him of the chance to prove himself and that had got to hurt. Ros knew better than anyone that that chance was what he needed. She herself had proven herself on a deep cover operation in Moscow after her involvement with Yalta. Had Harry pulled her off that one she too would have been devastated.

Harry had poured himself a glass of whisky to steady his nerves some ten minutes earlier. He now downed the remnants of that glass to give himself another few seconds. They had come to an agreement several minutes ago, but Ros knew that her boss still wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea. But she had kept her foot down and in the end she had won. She even had used emotional blackmail to get him to agree, but she had done it.

‘You’re back on the op,’ Harry said suddenly, looking at the Senior Case Officer.

The smile that now appeared on Lucas’s face lit up his entire face. The tension vanished in an instant. He was the very image of a schoolboy who had discovered it was actually his birthday today. ‘Thank you, Harry.’ Only someone without a brain would miss out on the genuine gratitude that practically radiated off him.

The head of the section raised his hand, forestalling more expressions of gratitude. ‘There are conditions.’

Lucas’s arms went back over his chest as if he was bracing himself for the worst. The happy twinkle in his eyes made way for an expression that was almost wary right away. This was bad, Ros knew. The relationship between those two had already been on shaky grounds before this operation had even started, but Harry’s almost immediate distrust as soon as Lucas had gone in may have just damaged it beyond repair.

‘Which are?’ The smile was still on his face, but there was wariness in his voice.

‘No more surprises,’ Harry told him sternly. ‘One more diversion from the script and I’m pulling you from the case and not even your fans can change my mind then.’ That statement was followed by a pointed look first at Arthur and then at Ros. Neither of them was particularly impressed.

Lucas nodded. ‘Understood.’

‘You’ll be on comms the entire time. I’m not letting you go in there unsupervised again. You were lucky these times, but Morgana is one dangerous witch and don’t get me even started on Bob bloody Hogan.’

‘I can handle him,’ Lucas said dismissively.

‘I am sure Adam thought the same thing right before Hogan handed him over to the Redbacks on a sodding silver platter,’ Harry countered. ‘This is non-negotiable, Lucas.’ There was paternal concern in his voice, but all the occupants of the room knew that that wasn’t all there was to it. Harry might _want_ to trust him, but that wasn’t the same thing as actual trusting him and they all knew it.

Lucas’s face darkened for a moment, but then he nodded reluctantly. ‘Okay.’ The smile had disappeared during this encounter as well. ‘Anything else?’

Harry shook his head. ‘Arthur?’

The king looked at him. ‘Yes?’ If that tone was anything to go by the Pendragon wasn’t exactly happy with the way things were going. He had this look that told the one it was directed against that he absolutely disapproved of what that person was doing. Ros didn’t doubt that it would have most of his subjects – and possibly the junior officers as well – running for the hills without second thought. Unfortunately for him Harry had faced far more dangerous individuals than Arthur Pendragon in a full-blown fury.

‘I want you to make a little rendezvous with our great friends from the CIA,’ Harry ordered.

Arthur’s face wrinkled in disgust. He hadn’t exactly made it a secret he greatly disliked the American counterpart of the British security service. And while Ros had to admit that Laurie Werner was indeed a bloody pain in the backside with her fake smile and her lies, sometimes liaising with her was really the lesser of two evils. And they did really need the information the CIA could give them on this operation, no matter how much they hated the need for it.

‘I’m not doing a happy dance around this office myself,’ Ros smiled wryly at her ally.

Arthur snorted, but made no protests, which was bound to be better for everyone’s nerves. ‘Where do I meet her?’

‘Hyde Park,’ Harry told him. ‘Two o’clock tomorrow afternoon. You get her to give us all of Hogan’s file this time.’

The king frowned. ‘We didn’t get it all the first time?’

Ros huffed. ‘Not bloody likely.’ Not that this had been much of a surprise. It was however a little insulting that the CIA thought MI-5 wouldn’t notice that sizable chunks of text seemed to have gone missing. They had tried and failed to make it look as if this really was all of it. It had Connie not even taken the quarter of an hour to discover that there were no records of the trickier periods in Hogan’s career. This was deliberate obstruction and it made Ros want to march over to that supposedly secret station of theirs to bang some heads against the walls. That would however be a little counterproductive. Sending in Arthur would be a better alternative, she had to agree.

Lucas’s face told everyone with eyes in their heads exactly what he thought about that behaviour. ‘They really think we’re stupid, don’t they?’

‘Welcome to the American way of life,’ Ros quipped, gaining her one of his charming smiles. They were few and far in between these days, so she decided to take it as a good omen. That annoyingly charming, easy-going man was still in there.

He gave her a lopsided grin. ‘What on earth happened to the special relationship?’

‘It seems our special relationship is experiencing a minor blip,’ Ros countered easily, referring to Hogan’s first phone call.

That got a real laugh from him. ‘Yeah, I bet.’

‘You meet her and get the file,’ Harry repeated, ignoring their exchange. ‘I don’t care how you do it. Blackmail her, threaten her, hold her at the point of your sword, just don’t return to this building until you get it.’

 _Don’t start putting ideas in his head_ , Ros thought. Arthur Pendragon was just the type to take this literally. The Section Chief wouldn’t put it past him to really use his sword to get Laurie to cooperate. And that would no doubt attract attention in a way that the protocols most definitely would not approve of.

Arthur was not in the mood to argue about the fact that Harry strictly speaking was in no position to order him about apparently, because he nodded. ‘Anything else I need to get from her?’

‘Ask her what they have on Hogan’s whereabouts, possible accomplices, hide-outs, you know the drill.’ Harry nodded at the king, appreciating his willingness to think for himself. Ros hadn’t believed it possible at first, but the king did have some intelligence. He just used it economically, is all.

Arthur nodded. ‘Should I drop some hints about Morgana?’ he asked. ‘Without mentioning her name of course,’ he added hastily when Harry’s face started to resemble a tomato again. ‘How do you say it again? Shake the tree, rattle the cage? Just see if she knows more than she lets on?’

Lucas snorted. ‘Isn’t that always the bloody case?’

Ros chuckled. Lucas was right on that one. As far as she knew the Americans were as forthcoming with their information as a stubborn oyster was with its pearl. But it was actually not a bad idea and she told the king as much. The past few days had taught her he wasn’t actually too bad at getting the information they needed. His means may be a little unconventional, but sometimes so were Ros’s, and it was the result that counted. It did however remind her of something. ‘But if you reveal your true identity again, I’ll have you locked in the basement cells for the next decade,’ she added quickly. She wasn’t exactly in a hurry to repeat the Whitehall disaster.

Arthur nodded, an uneasy look crossing his face. Thanks to Harry’s quick tongue Dolby and Blake were now under the impression that all that Once and Future King nonsense was actually true, even when they weren’t one hundred percent sure yet. At least the Official Secrets Act would stop them from blabbing this valuable piece of information to the press. Ros wouldn’t put it past the Home Secretary to announce Arthur’s work with the current government in order to get a bounce in the polls, but at least that crisis was temporarily contained, leaving them to deal with the much bigger one. And it could have been worse, but fortunately the existence of the portal had gone unmentioned.

‘Right,’ Harry said in is best army commander voice. ‘So off you go. Lucas, arrange a meet with our dynamic duo and start cracking on a good script with Malcolm and Merlin. Arthur, you go and get yourself acquainted with Hogan’s file. Ask Connie for assistance if you have to and tell them the op’s still live.’

Both men nodded and left the office. Ros made to follow them out, but the sharp ‘Rosalind!’ stopped her dead in her tracks. ‘Harry?’ She gave him a quizzical look.

‘Close the door,’ Harry ordered, refilling his glass with more whiskey. It was one of those tell-tale signs that he was on edge, as was his harsh voice. The boss was not one hundred percent convinced that this was even a good idea and he had meant what he said: at the slightest hint of trouble he’d pull Lucas out, even if that meant blowing all their chances of ever learning what the hell their enemy was up to.

Reluctantly she did as he asked, leaning against it in a way not unlike Lucas had done. ‘What’s up?’ she asked briskly.

‘I want you to arrange that meet with our esteemed Miss Werner for tomorrow afternoon,’ Harry told her. ‘Two o’ clock, safe-house Ottawa Bravo.’

It was almost a reflex to glance out of the window at Lucas’s retreating back. He really didn’t make it hard for her to put two and two together. Her fists clenched in anger. ‘That was not what we agreed on and you bloody well know it!’ She was bristling with rage.

Harry’s stern glare would have put Dolby to shame. ‘This is non-negotiable, Ros.’

‘I thought you said you trusted him.’ She couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice. This was far closer to home than she was comfortable with.

‘I do, I really want to, Ros.’ The tone became more cajoling now, begging for her understanding. But she’d be damned if she ever showed that to him. Now he had really gone too far. ‘But we cannot be sure, not yet. He’s too vulnerable, too damaged. We must anticipate that he might be persuaded to see Morgana’s point.’

 _That would be because Morgana actually has a point_ , Ros thought, but she knew better than to voice _that_ opinion. But she too had been shocked by the revelation that Merlin was not as innocent as he tried to come across. Add to that his immediate hostility towards Lucas and Ros had quite established that she wasn’t too fond of the clumsy warlock anymore. She respected him as a fellow spook – after all his work was good so far – but he was not the kind of colleague she would spend much time around.

‘It’s not what we agreed on,’ she repeated harshly. ‘You give him far too little credit.’ It wasn’t like her to question Harry’s decisions, but it was nothing like Harry to doubt his officers either. ‘And that wouldn’t be the first time either,’ she continued, the memory of how Harry had kept the knowledge of her father’s prison sentence from her until the end of an operation for fear it might affect her skills in the field. He really should know by now that both Ros and Lucas were made of sterner stuff than that and it certainly was not Harry’s job to make any assumptions on his officers’ personal lives. She was so pissed off that she didn’t even think before she threw the same hurtful words in his expressionless face. ‘The fact that your own existence is a walking disaster zone does _not_ give you the right to make judgements on other people’s!’

She grabbed her files from the desk and stormed out of the office with every intent of slamming those bloody doors hard enough to startle every officer on the Grid. Only Harry’s commanding ‘Rosalind!’ stopped her from making good on that.

‘ _Yes_?’ she snarled. She knew it was unprofessional behaviour. She shouldn’t shout at her boss like this and she sure as hell shouldn’t let her personal life get anywhere near this building, but it did all the same. She was sensitive to trust issues, she knew that, and no one should ever so much as think about touching her officers. _Colleagues are okay_.

‘You will not repeat as much as a word of this conversation to them, _either_ of them.’ The head of Section D had somehow ended up on his feet, fixing her with his sternest stare. ‘That is an order, Rosalind.’

She gave him the curtest of nods and stormed out. The door made a satisfactory bang as it forcefully slid shut behind her.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

 

It was treason, Lucas knew that. If Harry knew what he was doing, he would have him locked up in a cell and he would never see daylight again. And if things went according to plan, he would find out soon enough.

He calmed his breath and forced it to the back of his mind. This was not the time to worry about such things. It would work out all right. He had lasted all those years in prison. He would not screw up the first operation he was on. He knew what he was doing, even if almost everyone on the team believed otherwise.

‘You are sure about this, North?’ Hogan’s voice hissed. The former CIA officer was getting all touchy-feely with his gun, but Lucas was not impressed. Maybe it was because he had seen far more dangerous men in the hellhole that they called prison, but the sight of Bob Hogan, with or without gun, failed to have any reaction on him. He doubted anyone still could instil such fear in him as he had felt there. Right now, that was working to his advantage.

‘Harry trusts me,’ he replied calmly. ‘He wouldn’t lie to me.’

Perhaps he was a bit creative with the truth, because he knew that Harry Pearce most definitely did not trust him, especially not on this operation. But he had been allowed to continue with the operation – although he had to admit that he had most definitely not been authorised to do _this_ – and that had to mean that not all the trust was gone yet. Or that Ros’s powers of persuasion were far more impressive than he had believed them to be, he added wryly to himself. In all his career he had never seen anyone change Harry’s mind once it was made up, but Ros Myers had done it.

Lucas allowed himself to wonder briefly over that phenomenon. Harry and Ros behaved as a father and his sometimes rebellious daughter, he observed. She was always defending him and his actions, most of the time. If she had any grievances, she kept them private, unlike Tom Quinn, who had more than once fought his battles in the meeting room under the very noses of the rest of the team. And Harry surely had some soft spot for his Section Chief. He had heard snippets about her past and no one else would have employed her even after that. And Lucas was sure he hadn’t heard all of it. Most of it was highly classified and there was only so much one could learn over a glass of beer with his colleagues.

He put Ros from his mind as well. She too would not be happy with his actions today, he knew. He could be ruining their fragile friendship forever with this. But maybe, just maybe, she would understand why he did what he was doing now. Lucas wasn’t sure how deep she had gone undercover with the Yalta group, but he was pretty sure it was deep enough to at least fool some of her colleagues into believing she had truly turned against them, which would explain Ben’s continued dislike of her.

The van was cramped with three people hiding in it. The Senior Case Officer had no idea where the vehicle had come from, but he doubted the owner had given his permission for it. With their faces all over the news Hogan and Morgana could hardly have walked into a garage to buy one legally.

‘I am not yet seeing anyone, North,’ Hogan pointed out.

Lucas glanced at his watch. Only ten to two. Someone sure was getting jumpy. ‘There is still time.’ He took the binoculars and checked the area around the bench where the meeting would take place. A casual observer would never see it, but he was not a casual observer. He was sure that gardener over there was doing a bit more than gardening here. He had been hanging around that particular rose bush for at least twenty minutes now and the plant was not in such a bad state as to justify that amount of care. And Lucas could swear that businessman on a bench nearby must know his newspaper inside out if he were indeed to read it. The spook doubted that very much. He could swear the man had been talking to himself, or rather his handler, right now. Doubtlessly there would be more people on alert than just the two he had already spotted.

‘There is surveillance,’ he reported.

Morgana gave him a pointed look. ‘Why?’ she demanded. She radiated anger and determination, but there was a slight flicker of fear and uncertainty there as well.

Lucas shrugged. ‘Standard protocol,’ he reassured her. ‘It will probably mostly be the CIA, paranoid lot that they are.’ He ignored the death glare that was directed at him from one of the former paranoids. ‘They always seem to think we like to abduct their officers at this kind of rendezvous.’ He nearly failed to bite back a smirk. He had been informed that the reason for these increased measures was the fact that a little over a year ago Section D had indeed done something like that and Bob Hogan had been a victim.

This seemed to calm Morgana. She gave him a barely visible nod. ‘Will they be trouble?’ she questioned.

This time Lucas did smirk. ‘You are with us, my lady,’ he pointed out. ‘I hardly think anyone will stand a chance against your powers.’ She looked rather pleased with his flattering, but nonetheless he added: ‘Their main focus will be on protecting their officer, so as long as we’ll be nice and leave that woman alone, they will not hinder us too much. There might be a few of Harry’s out there and they might object to our plans, but we can handle them.’

He resumed his study of the park and its inhabitants, trying to discover more of either MI-5 or CIA officers in their little game of _Count the Spooks_. He found at least three others that were candidates: a young couple on a picnic blanket that was paying a little too much attention to that still empty bench and too little to each other, as one might suspect from love birds, and an elderly woman knitting on the bench opposite the meeting bench. She kept shooting glances at the other people around in a way that was far too wary for a normal old lady.

‘I’m counting three,’ Hogan reported. He too had binoculars in front of his eyes and a deep frown in his forehead to go with it.

 _A little rusty, old man?_ Lucas smirked. ‘I’m counting five.’ He ignored the older man’s hateful stare. Hogan didn’t mean anything. He was a pawn and the spook didn’t doubt he would be sacrificed at the first sign of trouble. Hogan may think he was the one to run this show, but Lucas knew differently. The man was close to outliving his usefulness. He had helped Morgana in her first few weeks in London, but Lucas was definitely a more valuable ally now. He was younger, better trained and had, most importantly, direct access to the people Morgana hated most. So while Lucas was swiftly gaining Morgana’s favour, Hogan was rapidly losing it. The spook wondered briefly what would happen to the American when he did fall from grace entirely, but didn’t ponder it long. It wasn’t important. This operation was.

He checked his watch again. There were only three minutes left to go. So he directed his attention towards the park again and waited.

 

***

 

By the time Arthur had arrived at the meeting place he was seething, practically boiling over with rage. How could Harry even think about doing this? How dare he change the place of the meeting without telling him, or any other member of the team? Had he so little faith in his own people?

True, Ros had known, but Arthur found that he could not really blame her for the lack of information he had received. She had been bound by orders and it was all too obvious she had hated them with a passion. The Section Chief had explained the situation to him in the car when she drove him here, which was still illegal as far as Harry was concerned, but Ros was under the impression that rules were there to break them. The words had come from between clenched teeth as she told the king of Camelot that Harry did not trust Lucas enough to tell him the real meeting place.

‘But why tell him about the meeting at all?’ Arthur had asked, rather stupidly in hindsight.

‘He is testing him,’ Ros had clarified. ‘If he leads our dynamic duo to the bloody park today, Harry will know he is on their side, not ours.’

This confused Arthur for only half a second, but then he understood. ‘But he’s giving him no choice now!’ he exclaimed. ‘If Lucas wants to pretend to be with them, he’ll _have_ to lead them there.’

Ros only nodded, eyes on the road.

‘Surely Harry knows that!’ he had protested, but it sounded feeble even to his own ears.

‘Does he now?’ came the hard sarcastic reply.

‘But… but when I am not there, Lucas’s cover with Hogan and Morgana is blown,’ Arthur realised. It was so shocking that he forgot completely that he was in fact using spooks jargon to get his point across. The consequences of Lucas being found out by his archenemy presented themselves to him, one scenario even worse than the one before. Arthur had seen what his half-sister did to people who were in her way and it was not pleasant.

‘Yes.’ Speaking through clenched teeth seemed to have become Ros’s default setting. Arthur could hear the righteous anger he himself experienced, combined with the utter frustration of not being able to do something about this situation. It was topped off by an edge of protectiveness in the snappy woman’s voice. For all her seemingly cold and bossy behaviour she did care about her officers.

And that had Arthur thinking. He had come to understand Harry as a man who took care of his officers, trusted them, no matter what. He had been in this job for longer than anyone knew. Ros had explained that when you were a spook you looked out for your colleagues, because the government ‘sure as hell was not going to do it.’ He had been told that when one entered the Service their life was instantly worth less than a civilian’s, which meant that if the spies didn’t take care of one another, no one else would do it. And they were protective of each other, that much had become clear to him, Harry more than the others. For him to not only give up faith in one of his best officers, to practically throw him to the wolves felt infinitely wrong, out of character even.

‘But Lucas is his officer,’ he protested again, but it still didn’t sound any more certain than it had just now.

‘Officially maybe,’ Ros growled. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. ‘Unofficially we’re his handlers now.’

Arthur had a feeling that this was not authorised by Harry, but he happened to agree with the Section Chief. They had agreed on being allies on this operation, unlikely allies admittedly, but allies nonetheless. And it would be up to them to make sure that this operation went off without a hitch. And to make sure that Lucas remained on their side.

Because that was the real mission here, Arthur pondered as he paced around the small kitchen of the safe-house, waiting for his contact to arrive. Lucas was vulnerable, Harry was right about that at least. And if they were pushing him enough he might indeed go over to Morgana’s side. It would be up to Arthur and Ros to give him enough reasons to remain with Section D.

He was interrupted when the front door opened and immediately he stored away the question of what to do about the situation with Lucas for later. It wouldn’t do him any good now to get distracted. He had met Laurie Werner only one time before this and he had quickly understood that she was a force to be reckoned with. Oh, if he had the chance to fight her with a sword he was sure to be victorious, but that was one of the things Harry had forbidden him. He would have to make her cooperate with his words alone.

That was a slight problem, since words were obviously not his forte. That was more Merlin’s area of expertise, but the warlock was keeping an eye on Lucas’s meet with Morgana right now and Arthur had already been introduced as the liaison officer. There would be no backing out right now.

‘Miss Werner,’ he acknowledged when the CIA woman entered the room.

She glanced around and her nose wrinkled in disgust at the sight of the dusty kitchen. ‘Mr Parker,’ she nodded, the fake smile plastered over her face already.

The king of Camelot remembered all too well how long it had taken Harry to get through that mask and he braced himself. He was not nearly as quick with words as Harry Pearce. But Aidan Parker was. He had spent a huge part of last night on the Grid with Lucas, further creating the persona that was Aidan Samuel Parker. Merlin had been looming over them like the very image of disapproval, but Arthur had ignored him, because he was grateful for the help. The Senior Case Officer had reminded him to keep it close to his real identity, with the subtle differences of his persona. That would be easy to remember and easy to act.

Aidan now had the same temper as Arthur Pendragon, because that was almost impossible to keep in check for the king sometimes, the same sense of justice and loyalty and the same tendency to shout whenever he was angry. Aidan however also had Lucas’s relaxed attitude, Harry’s disregard for decorum and tendency towards rule-bending whenever it suited him and Ros’s sharp tongue. He had practised that last trait till deep in the night until Lucas had declared himself pleased and ready to go. Right now, Arthur felt anything but.

But he forced Arthur to the back of his mind and let the Aidan part of him take over. It was an interesting experience, and somehow exciting at the same time. It was also reassuring, because there was no doubt Aidan could get from Laurie what they so desperately needed.

‘I was hoping for a cup of real English tea,’ Laurie began. ‘But I don’t think…’ Her voice trailed off as she inspected the kitchen again.

‘And I was rather hoping you would be a bit more forthcoming with your information than you have been so far,’ Arthur countered. ‘But unfortunately we don’t always get what we want in life.’

‘Too bloody right,’ Ros’s voice said in his earpiece. The Section Chief was still in the car two blocks away, keeping track of the proceedings inside the building.

Laurie’s smile became rather fixed. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

Arthur didn’t buy it. Even if Ros had not been informing him that the CIA officer was in the habit of denying every accusation thrown her way, he would have been able to tell by her huge smile. It reminded him a bit of Merlin when he was trying to talk his way out of something. And Laurie was about as successful in that mission as the warlock always was.

‘Oh, I think you do.’ Arthur, although ready to bang the woman with her head against the wall already, casually leaned against the wall in the way he had seen Lucas lean against the door in Harry’s office yesterday. He hoped he managed to radiate the right amount of calm and ease. ‘You didn’t really think we were stupid enough not to notice that certain pieces of Hogan’s file had gone mysteriously missing, did you?’

Laurie’s face temporarily paled a little, but the smile was back soon enough. ‘If you could just give me the tiniest clue as to what you’re talking about…’

This playing dumb frustrated Arthur to absolutely no end. ‘Stop playing dumb!’ he snapped at her. He would have added Ros’s ‘it really doesn’t suit you’ were it not that this was wholly untrue. Because dumb was precisely what this woman was. If she thought she could actually get away with this she was even stupider than the king already thought. ‘You have deliberately left out those parts of Hogan’s files that we need to track him down. Now I want to know why and then you’re going to give me the rest of that file.’

She seemed to weigh her options. ‘If,’ she began, ‘and I am saying _if_ , such a part would exist, why would I give it to you?’

Arthur could practically hear Ros’s teeth gritting in anger. ‘Threaten her,’ the Section Chief ordered.

The king happily obliged. ‘Because we have credible intelligence that your officer is planning another attack here in London and we need your information to stop him.’ He had practised this lie so many times it came out without stammering. He even managed to look the woman in the eyes as he said it, almost daring her to protest.

And protest she did. ‘He is not our officer.’

‘He was,’ Arthur countered easily. ‘And that means your country has a file on him, and more than the four inches you’ve given us. We want the rest and we want it now.’ The advantage of studying Harry in a full-blown temper often enough was that it became easier to copy. ‘Because when the next bomb goes off and you have not given it to us, we will be only too glad to tell the public who is really responsible for all those casualties.’

Laurie’s smile became rather fixed all of a sudden. ‘You’re bluffing.’

‘Am I now?’ Arthur conjured up the smile he normally saved for when he had a really long list of chores for Merlin to do. ‘We wouldn’t feel too burdened about informing the public either that the first bombing could have been prevented as well had the CIA kept their man on a tighter leash.’

The indignation now replaced the smile. He had finally broken through the mask. ‘You wouldn’t dare!’

Arthur returned the angry stare without effort. ‘Do you know what will happen if another bomb goes off?’ he demanded. ‘Apart from innocent people dying of course? London will go into free fall, City and all. The people are already scared out of their depths after the station bomb. Your country is deliberately obstructive and we will not hesitate to hold it responsible if another British civilian dies as a result of that.’ If he had been in Camelot he would have thrown her in the dungeons ages ago, but he didn’t have that luxury here, as much as he disliked that fact. So he settled for the next best thing. ‘I’m giving you one more choice before I really pick up that phone and ring Reuters.’

Her eyes became wide, but as long as there was not yet a phone in sight she refused to budge. ‘We deny everything.’

But two could play this game. ‘Then I might feel obliged to suspect that the CIA has ulterior motives for not giving us the information we want, other than holding a grudge against our best officer and trying to save your own images, of course.’ This was quickly turning into a staring match, but he had experience with those. And he was not going to be the first to look away. ‘After all, it wouldn’t be too strange if the CIA was really behind the bombing, that they were running Hogan.’ The idea, that had started out as a mere way to put pressure on Laurie, began to feel more and more like a realistic option to the king of Camelot.

Laurie scoffed, summoning up an altogether fake and strained smile. ‘That’s absurd.’

‘Is it?’ Arthur shot back. ‘Hogan was your officer and you left him off after he had committed a serious crime. We can only assume you did that because you still believed he could be useful to you.’ An idea hit him then. ‘And while you’re at it, you can go on and give us the file you have on his accomplice as well.’

The look of unease was enough to alarm both Ros and Arthur. ‘She knows something.’ It wasn’t a question, it was a conclusion. The Section Chief had to make do with the small cameras that had been hidden away in the house, but it was enough. Arthur would have nodded if that hadn’t given away that he was still having contact with one of his colleagues.

‘What do you know about his accomplice?’ Laurie demanded. The smile was gone now for real.

‘They’re running an investigation of their own,’ Ros breathed. ‘They’re trying to get to him before we can and then we’ll never see him again.’

That was about the same conclusion Arthur had already reached. And he would be damned if he gave as much as a snippet of their information to this scheming woman. If information was what won wars these days, he’d be as stupid as Merlin often made him out to be if he gave her anything now. ‘Only that he has one,’ he lied. Denying that would be stupid since Morgana’s face was all over the news right now. ‘Female, fairly young, green eyes, black hair. One of yours as well?’

The implication that Hogan was still a CIA operative made the woman bristle with rage. ‘Are you accusing us of sponsoring terrorism on British soil?’ she demanded sharply.

Arthur conjured up some more of Lucas’s relaxed attitude. ‘I don’t know,’ he replied calmly. ‘ _Are_ you?’ This bold question wasn’t followed by a warning from Ros and Arthur took that as a sign that this was permitted. Maybe this was what the spooks called rattling cages. Laurie surely did look rattled now. He could only just stifle his smirk.

‘This just gets better and better!’ Laurie threw her hands in the air in exasperation. ‘Do you want to go on and accuse us of sponsoring Al Qaeda as well?’

‘I might if you don’t give me those files,’ Arthur said immediately.

She began to laugh.

‘Do you think this is a joke?’ Arthur questioned, his tone perfectly icy.

The laughter stopped abruptly. ‘You’re not joking,’ she realised.

‘We would have very little trouble to make it look like that,’ the king pointed out. He knew he was treading on very thin ice here, but it was a risk well worth taking if they could get the files they wanted in return. ‘You are of course aware that Hogan was behind the market bombings, working together with Al Qaeda operatives. How much difficulty do you think would we have finding a link with the CIA?’ He really was bluffing here. This had most definitely _not_ been in the script.

‘You’re bluffing.’ It was more of a wish than an actual denial and they both knew it.

Arthur dug up his mobile. ‘I thought we had gone over this already,’ he sighed. His heart was beating too fast. If he was really forced to make that phone call it would turn out soon enough that he didn’t have one piece of evidence to back his story up. It was all about making that woman believe that he had that evidence. It was strangely exciting to do. Arthur was of course familiar with the thrill of a real fight and he hadn’t been able to believe that such verbal sparring could have the same effect. He now understood that thing that Lucas had called the thrill of a dangerous operation.

‘You don’t have the evidence?’ the CIA woman told him, but again she betrayed her nervousness by making it sound like a question rather than a solid belief.

He smirked. ‘Don’t I?’ He started pushing the right numbers, hoping and praying that Miss Werner would give in before she would make him look like a complete fool here. _In my experience you don’t need any help looking like a fool_ , Morgana had once told him, back in the day. If this woman didn’t give him what he needed he was close to finding out the truth of that statement.

It took her still three rings of the phone before the nervous ‘okay, okay’ finally came. It took all the self-restraint Arthur possessed not to let out a sigh of relief. Instead he smiled pleasantly, as he did when he told Merlin to muck out his horses. ‘Very well,’ he told her. ‘Do I get these files?’

‘Tell her to get the hell away from our investigation as well,’ Ros growled in his right ear.

Laurie nodded. ‘I’ll arrange for someone to bring them down now.’ The smile and the self-assured attitude seemed to have abandoned her both. They both knew who had won this particular battle.

‘I think that would be best,’ Arthur advised her. ‘And perhaps you could inform your superiors as well that if we ever catch you anywhere near this operation again, we will not hesitate to release our information to the press after all.’ He managed to make it sound like polite conversation and not like the threat that it was, another thing he had copied from the Section Chief. All in all he felt rather pleased with his own performance.

Laurie nodded and he felt even more smug. This had gone even better than he had dared to hope. They had won a round. For the first time since the start of the operation Arthur allowed himself to believe that everything could still work out all right.

But then he remembered that Lucas’s cover with Hogan and Morgana could be blown this very minute and a cold shiver went down his spine.

 

***

 

Half past two. Lucas knew what time his watch would give him before he had even looked. After all it was hardly half a minute ago since he had last watched.

The atmosphere in the small van had grown more poisonous by the minute ever since two o’ clock. He had his eyes practically glued to the binoculars, searching for a sign of either Arthur or Laurie Werner, but neither had shown their faces. Half an hour had passed and no one had shown, not even other operatives from the same security services. And gradually the surveillance of the place had lessened as well. The old lady had been the first to leave, followed almost immediately by the business man. The gardener had finally wandered off to other bushes and had then vanished entirely, only to be seen driving away in a car that looked too expensive to be owned by someone with his job. Now only the young couple remained and even they were folding the picnic blanket now, a clear sign that they too were about to leave. Whatever was supposed to happen here this afternoon at two o’ clock, it had either not happened or it had happened and they had somehow completely missed out on it. The latter seemed highly unlikely and therefore Lucas could only conclude it had to be the first.

His heart and hopes sank as he finally realised that Harry had been lying to him. In hindsight it should have been obvious maybe. Harry’s distrust of him had been unmistakable and yet he had told him the location and time of the meeting Arthur was having with the CIA people, even as Harry well knew that Lucas had promised Morgana to bring Arthur to her. And the head of the section had also known that this meeting was the only time the king of Camelot would leave Thames House. It had been a trap and he, the gullible fool, had walked right into it.

He could feel a cold shiver go down his spine. By now Harry would have figured out he was not where he was supposed to be and Morgana would start to suspect him too because he had led her on a wild goose chase. If he didn’t act he would be left with nothing. He would lose all value he had gained here and Harry would kick him out of the Service in disgrace because of his betrayal.

‘No one is coming, North,’ Hogan pointed out, rather unnecessarily. His voice would have sent the shivers down anyone’s spine. It might have had that effect on Lucas as well had he not feared the witch more.

But he kept his nerve. Falling apart would not gain him anything now. ‘Harry lied to me.’ It didn’t take much effort to make his voice tremble with rage and hurt.

How could his old friend have done this to him? Lucas felt the cold stabbing pain of betrayal. Harry had left him out in the cold. He had given him the information he would have known Lucas would have to act on if he wanted to see this through and he had been fool enough to believe that Harry trusted him with the king’s life, even after all that had happened. But instead the agreed meeting had not taken place, robbing him of every chance he ever had with either of the two groups.

Morgana caught on immediately. ‘He doesn’t trust you anymore, Lucas.’ The tone was sickening sweet and yet threatening at the same time. It made Lucas want to throw up in fear. The images of Russia assaulted his mind and it took him every bit of self-control to keep them at bay. He had no doubt that Morgana’s magic was capable of inflicting even worse things on a human body. And as far as he knew she considered him an enemy now, a traitor. ‘You appear to have outlived your usefulness.’

‘No!’ He was unable to ban the panic out of his voice. ‘I can still deliver Arthur Pendragon to you.’

Hogan scoffed, making clear how much he believed of that speech. Morgana just measured him up, disbelief also evident in her eyes. ‘How will you do that when you can no longer get to him?’ she demanded.

Lucas’s brain worked at top speed. The quick denial had come almost automatically. It was some kind of mechanism to protect himself, like he had had in Russia, where an answer like that could sometimes buy him some precious seconds to take a deep breath before the torture began anew. He _had_ to come up with something or he would be a dead man. And he had not survived that hellhole to die now.

‘Your brother trusts me.’ The words came spilling out of his mouth almost without thinking. ‘He won’t believe that I was trying to sell him out to you.’ He even managed a smirk as the idea started to take shape in his head. Arthur’s naivety could yet prove his salvation. The king had some kind of blind faith in him, naïve admittedly, but it was there all the same.

Hogan and Morgana both scoffed at this. ‘My dear brother is not that thick.’

Lucas maintained the smirk. ‘Isn’t he?’ he countered. ‘It did take him quite some time to realise that your true allegiances were no longer with Camelot, didn’t it? According to Merlin he only faced the facts the moment the crown was already on your head, my lady. I hardly think that evidence of his world-shocking intelligence. He won’t realise how things really are before it is too late. Arthur Pendragon will take my side in this, or what he believes is my side of course.’ These were not lies as far as he knew. He was scraping together what he had heard so far, combining the stories the two men had told him and the things he had observed himself. He knew he was treading on thin ice here. One wrong step and he would still be dead, but the adrenaline had kicked in now and the fear disappeared. He was still in control and if he could he would turn this situation around. It wasn’t like him to go down without a fight.

He could see the doubt in her eyes, mingled with that desperate need that she had to get her hands on the brother she hated so much, the brother who kept evading her. She was closer now to getting her hands on him than she had been in a long time and Lucas hoped rather than knew that she would not be able to let this chance, no matter how small, slip through her fingers. She needed to sit on the throne of Camelot and to sit on that throne she needed Arthur dead. And Lucas North was the best way to get at him, even with his cover blown.

‘Your guarantees are meaningless,’ the witch pointed out. ‘You are no longer in the position to get even close to him.’

Lucas’s heart almost stopped, but he forced the words out nonetheless. ‘You are underestimating Harry’s weak points,’ he reminded her. ‘He believes in second chances.’

‘Harry Pearce believes in second chances?’ Hogan laughed out loud.

‘Why else do you think Ros Myers is still in Section D?’ Lucas shot back, his face an expressionless mask, not betraying any of the inner turmoil.

That at least wiped that stupid grin off Hogan’s face. The CIA man nodded reluctantly. ‘One of his more foolish decisions,’ he muttered.

Lucas ignored him. The recent events hadn’t changed the American’s position in Morgana’s little organisation. He was becoming more of a burden than an asset with each passing minute and unlike Lucas he had no chances of getting her anything she didn’t already have. He was as good as useless already.

He addressed Morgana again. ‘Give me twenty-four hours,’ he said. ‘Give me twenty-four hours and you will have Arthur Pendragon.’


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

 

The meeting room was deathly quiet again, but Merlin had no illusions. As soon as the meeting would start, this room would soon be filled with the sound of raised voices and slamming fists on the table. All it took for it to start was Harry’s arrival. Right now the head of the section was still in his office, trying to calm a very upset American official who was under the impression that MI-5 had just accused his country of working together with Al Qaeda. Harry of course denied this, but Arthur’s a little too innocent expression told Merlin all he needed to know.

But Arthur’s threats against another kingdom were the very least of Merlin’s worries. Because he had been in the surveillance van that should have been overseeing Lucas’s meeting with Morgana. But, as he already feared, the Senior Case Officer had shaken them off his trail and he had disappeared into the chaos that was the London traffic. Merlin had barely been able to bite back the _I told you so_ that was dying to come out, but he had the feeling that Ben Kaplan would not be too pleased to hear that. The young man was on Merlin’s side in this matter, the warlock knew that, but he was reluctantly so. He had worked together with Lucas and felt like the other man had watched his back in the Al Qaeda operation. Merlin supposed he could go easy on him just this once. After all, he knew how difficult it was when someone you considered a friend turned on you. He had seen it with Morgana and it had very nearly broken his heart.

It had not come as a big surprise however that they had tracked Lucas’s vehicle to a huge parking lot, abandoned. Soon the surveillance they had put on the park where Arthur was supposed to have his meeting reported the arrival of a small van with three people on the inside. They all remained inside until almost a quarter to three, when the van had left. Merlin and Ben, who had waited with Lucas’s car, had seen that same van dropping off a wholly unconcerned looking Lucas North a quarter of an hour later.

There was no doubt left in Merlin’s mind. Lucas had gone to the park with Hogan and Morgana in an attempt to snatch Arthur off the street to do God knows what to him. He had never been so grateful for Harry’s suspicious spooks nature that had urged him to hold the meeting in another place. It had quite possibly saved Arthur’s life.

What he had not expected was for Lucas to just turn up at Thames House as if nothing untoward had happened. He had walked through the pods, greeted a flabbergasted Jo and had walked on to the kitchen to make himself a coffee. But by the time that he had emerged again and Ros and Arthur were back on the Grid as well everyone had recovered from their surprise and Harry’s commander yell had made them all but run for the meeting room.

And there they were sitting now, waiting until Harry had smoothed some foreign official’s ruffled feathers. The silence in the meeting room was intense and in a way murderous. Most people were by now totally convinced of Lucas’s betrayal, many of them wondering why he had even come back to this place, Merlin among them. Ros and Arthur were seated on either side of the Senior Case Officer. Their matching glares were possibly the only thing that kept the silence from breaking, the warlock observed. He had no idea Arthur was even capable of such cold behaviour. Merlin had always believed him to be stern, but honest and compassionate. But there was no compassion in his eyes today.

Lucas was distressed. There was sweat on his forehead and his fists kept clenching and unclenching just within Merlin’s line of sight. The face was hidden behind the expressionless mask, but the eyes betrayed a restlessness that made it perfectly clear to everyone with a brain that Lucas was fully aware that they knew what had just happened.

He had to give up his analysis of the occupants of the room when Harry literally marched into the room, slamming some files on the table with so much force that one of the cups fell from the edge of the table. Only Jo’s timely interference could save it from a collision with the ground.

‘Explain!’ the head of the section demanded.

‘What is there to explain?’ Lucas asked wearily. ‘You sent me in with false information. I think that it is you that needs to do the explaining here today, Harry.’ The tone became angrier now.

‘You would have handed Arthur to them on a silver platter!’ Harry’s voice rose to a shout. ‘What the hell did you think you were doing?’

The weariness disappeared from his features entirely, making way for unadulterated fury. ‘You gave me the information Morgana needed. You all but commanded me to act on it. Why else would you conveniently have dropped that piece of information while I was still in the room?’ Sometime during this speech Lucas had ended up on his feet, pointing his finger at Harry’s chest. There was something very threatening about this situation. ‘You knew she still required me to show my loyalty to her. You _knew_ I would have to act on your information.’ He turned away from the table, pacing the meeting room, rubbing his chin, too restless to remain in one place. ‘Why did you do it, Harry? Morgana doesn’t believe me anymore. You almost made me blow my cover with this.’

 _That’s what you like to make us think_. True, it all sounded very plausible, but Merlin closed his ears to the logic of his reasoning. The moment he let himself see Lucas’s point he would be in danger of starting to doubt the man’s loyalties to Morgana and then Arthur would surely be in great danger. And that was something he would never let happen.

Harry, to the warlock’s surprise, leaned back in his chair. ‘That’s an interesting way to look at this,’ he observed in a mock admiring tone. ‘You would have handed Arthur to Morgana in order to gain her trust in you?’

‘Yes,’ Lucas admitted. He had come to a halt near the wall and let himself lean against it, seemingly exhausted.

‘Explain to me how that works,’ Harry commanded. ‘You would give Morgana the person we were trying to keep out of her grasp in the first place in order to gain her trust, to convince her you are on her side…’

‘In order to bring her down,’ Lucas interjected.

This earned him a disbelieving snort from his boss and half of the rest of the team. ‘This is actually pretty good,’ Harry said. ‘Come on, Lucas, amaze me once again with your ability to talk your way out of this.’

If that was a challenge, Lucas was fully prepared to meet it. The traitor folded his arms across his chest and stared at Harry. ‘I would have given her Arthur, then she would have trusted me. She might have done that today if you had not been so keen on double-crossing me.’

Harry ignored the accusation. ‘And in what universe would I ever have agreed to let you take Arthur Pendragon to Morgana to do with as she pleased?’

Lucas’s eyes sparked with rage. ‘A universe where you still trusted me to keep him safe.’ A fist came slamming down on the table and it wasn’t Harry’s. ‘What the hell did you think, Harry? That I was going to let her tear him limb from limb in order to gain the intelligence we are looking for?’

That was exactly what Merlin was thinking anyway. He had to admit that Lucas really did a good job of pointing out his “side of the story”, but the fact remained that he had actively tried to abduct the man Merlin had sworn to protect. Actions spoke louder than words. It was a lesson that Merlin had been forced to learn the hard way. In the past he had let himself be blinded by words and smiles and thus he had put the kingdom in terrible danger, because he had recognised the danger too late. The Lady Catrina, aka the troll, had been a fine example of that. It was a mistake he would not make again, not with Arthur’s life on the line.

Harry too now was on his feet, staring at his officer in sheer disbelief. ‘You’re off the case,’ he announced.

He could as well have physically hit Lucas for all the effect that it had. The spook staggered back, shock evident on his face. ‘You can’t do that, Harry!’ he exclaimed.

‘You are too vulnerable to pull off this operation.’ Harry’s tone was harsh, but there was still a fatherly concern audible in it, something that worried Merlin. He knew that the head of the section would not allow Lucas to continue with the operation, but that was not enough for Merlin. He could tell the boss was not about to kick Lucas out of this Section for his treason, blaming his actions on some kind of vulnerability caused by his imprisonment in that country they called Russia. Lucas would be allowed to remain here, right on the Grid. Heaven knew what damage he could still cause then. Harry’s misguided loyalty towards Lucas was clouding his judgement and with that he was putting Arthur right in the line of danger, even if the king was not willing to see it that way.

‘You’re afraid I’ve gone through Traitor’s Gate,’ Lucas accused him.

Harry kept his head down, ordering some of the files in front of him.

That of course was answer enough. ‘God, Harry, at least say it to my face.’ Lucas turned around and resumed his pacing. ‘You’re thinking it, aren’t you? All of you.’

This questioning of his loyalty spurred Arthur into action, as Merlin had half suspected it would. Arthur was a good king, but far too trusting for his own good, in this case bordering on naivety. ‘That’s not true!’ he protested loudly.

Harry’s groan told the warlock all he needed to know about what he thought of this interference. Why couldn’t Arthur just keep his mouth shut on occasions like this?

But Arthur in anger was an almost unstoppable force. ‘I say we should continue with the operation,’ he declared. When that earned him more than one incredulous look, he added: ‘We’re closer to Morgana than we have been ever before. To stop now would be the biggest mistake we could possibly make.’ Only Ros and Lucas nodded, but that was no surprise either. Merlin did wonder why the Section Chief was still in favour of the operation, though. He didn’t think she was a traitor and last time he checked she seemed to be in her right mind, so why she would support such a dangerous operation was beyond him. Arthur’s behaviour he could blame on naivety, but Ros was bordering on paranoid at the best of times. She of all people should see Merlin’s point in this.

Harry’s fist came down on the table again. ‘You would offer yourself up to that witch _willingly_?’ he demanded sarcastically.

‘Yes, if that was what it took.’ The response was immediate, without as much of a hint of hesitation.

This scared Merlin. He knew his king, self-sacrificing dollophead that he was. He had made up his mind on this. As long as he thought it was safe enough – which he now believed it was – he would go to Morgana like a lamb to slaughter, to save innocent lives. Merlin had seen it before. Arthur believed it to be his duty to protect his people first and foremost. Now they had a chance to deal with Morgana once and for all, or so the king believed, and he was not giving up on that plan. It was as infuriating as it was predictable.

Harry’s eyes widened. ‘Do you have some kind of bloody death wish you may have forgotten to inform us about?’

Arthur snorted. ‘Lucas will keep me alive,’ he stated. His icy gaze challenged the head of Section D to contradict him.

‘No.’ The refusal was simple and Merlin let out a breath he didn’t really realising he had been holding at all. Even when he knew Harry would never allow this, he had been half expecting him to go with it.

‘Why not?’ Arthur demanded. ‘What else are we going to do? Morgana isn’t someone we can catch by conventional means.’

‘We’ll find something,’ Harry said dismissively. ‘But I am not about to let one of my officers out into the field to be handed over to that bloody witch for slaughter.’

Arthur’s voice rose as well as he jumped to his feet. ‘I am not one of your officers to command as you see fit,’ he growled. ‘I am the king of Camelot and you _will_ listen to me.’

That was a dangerous tone and Merlin knew it. He had been on the receiving end more than once. And he stepped in. ‘Arthur, Morgana will kill you given the chance. Not even Lucas can stand a chance against her.’ Even if he would want to, which Merlin seriously doubted. But Arthur’s temper was already running low and he wouldn’t want to rile the king any more.

But it would seem he had done that anyway. ‘You are the only one who can adequately protect me, is that what you mean to say?’

The honest answer to that question of course would be yes. Morgana was a powerful witch, more powerful than even Arthur was aware of, and she was growing stronger still. He had fought her, had felt the strength of her spells and it had scared him, more than he was prepared to share with anyone. He had bested her, that much was true, but it had taken a toll on him. Part of that may be blamed on him being in his Dragoon disguise, but not all of it. She was strong and Merlin knew normal weapons would be little use in fighting her. It would be his task, his destiny, to finish her.

His silence was all the confirmation Arthur needed. ‘Outside,’ he ordered.

‘What?’ Harry asked.

Arthur’s stare was deadly. ‘I need to have a word with Merlin in private.’

Uh oh. This was bad news, Merlin knew that. Something about what he had said or done had angered Arthur. He nodded and exited the meeting room, following the king to his desk. It wasn’t like him to do so without protest, but felt it would be wiser not to make a fuss of something so small.

Something had changed between them, maybe even forever. It had begun with the revelation of his magic. They were no longer just master and servant, even though that aspect was still there. They were also equals in some respects and that meant that Merlin’s opinion was just as valuable as Arthur’s. Merlin had thought that would lead to their friendship becoming stronger, which would give him far better opportunities to protect Arthur. As it turned out the opposite had become true. This operation had driven them apart until they were where they were now.

‘What do you think you’re doing, _Mer_ lin?’ Arthur demanded once they were out of earshot of the team.

There were no chores to hide behind, as he usually did whenever Arthur was mad at him, so he settled for the honest answer. ‘Protecting you.’

‘Did I actually ask you to be my protector, _Mer_ lin?’ The tone was downright venomous. Had they been spoken in any other tone they might just have been exchanging witticisms. But they were definitely not keeping up their usual banter here. This was a king demanding answers. ‘Did I even do half of the things you told me I did or was that you as well, eliminating the danger while I was conveniently unconscious?’ Arthur must have been doing a lot of thinking lately and while this meant that he had figured out a lot of things that happened, it didn’t necessarily mean Arthur liked this.

‘It was necessary.’ He was painfully aware of how stiff the words sounded.

And so was Arthur. ‘Necessary?’ he echoed. ‘Like it is necessary for you to treat Lucas like a common criminal?’

‘Arthur, you have to see!’ he pleaded. ‘He is dangerous!’

But warning Arthur in this case was just as useful as trying to tell him about first Morgana’s and now Agravaine’s treason. The king wouldn’t hear of it. He had faith in Lucas and only when he saw their betrayal with his own eyes would he see the truth. But by then it might be far too late already.

Arthur’s eyes flashed in a very dangerous manner. ‘Don’t you dare, Merlin,’ he warned the servant in a way not unlike Lucas had spoken in the meeting room.

‘But…’ he tried.

Arthur cut him off. ‘No, don’t you dare. I won’t hear of it. This isn’t the first time you’ve mistrusted a person the first time you as much laid eyes on them and I won’t have it anymore.’

Arthur had actually noticed that? ‘You…’ he stammered.

‘I am not blind, Merlin, and I have had some time to think some things over the last couple of days.’ The king’s eyes were narrowed in suspicion. ‘And don’t think I haven’t noticed that these persons you distrust always seem to disappear in a very mysterious manner. So don’t even so much as _think_ about touching Lucas.’

That was the last straw, Merlin guessed. He snapped. ‘What else am I supposed to do?’ he yelled. ‘Am I supposed to sit back and watch while Morgana gets her hands on you? I’m meant to protect you!’ Surely Arthur must see that too.

But Arthur obviously didn’t. ‘You are saying I should trust you to do the dirty work for me?’

‘Not exactly like that…’ Merlin hesitated, knowing how much Arthur hated the special treatment.

‘But that is exactly what it is, isn’t it?’ Arthur questioned. ‘Because that is what you have always done, isn’t that right, Merlin? You’ve gone behind my back, using magic to keep me safe from God knows what and it never even crossed your mind to trust me with that knowledge?’

‘I was scared!’ Merlin heard how frightened he sounded now. This was it, this was what he had feared for so long. The fear had subsided a little when Arthur had seemed to accept his magic without question after the Al Qaeda operation, had even encouraged him to use it. There had been no hurt feelings, no anger, no betrayal. But they were here now and the panic flooded back in, trying to overwhelm him.

Arthur didn’t seem to notice. He was still in the grasp of his full-blown temper tantrum. ‘You have no idea, do you, Merlin? You have no idea how suffocating it is, you doing all the work while I am hiding behind you. Good grief, I didn’t even know you were acting like a glorified shield until I started to think it over! And what have you even done that I don’t even know about? How many have you killed with your magic?’

That was one question Merlin could tell the king wanted answered. It was only one of the few questions that the warlock was not prepared to answer. Unfortunately Arthur seemed determined to hurl all those questions at him in the span of the last quarter of an hour. ‘I…’ he began, unsure of how to proceed.

But there was no need to. Arthur had reached his own conclusions. ‘This makes me sick,’ he muttered. ‘This actually makes me want to throw up right here and now. Who do you even think you are? Do you think it is all right for you to just go ahead and kill everyone you think will be a threat to me?’

 _Yes_. That however would be a most unwise thing to say. ‘Arthur, you don’t understand…’

The addressed man however refused to listen. ‘I understand far more than you think!’ he snarled, something Merlin had never ever heard him do before. ‘And I know you don’t trust Lucas on this operation, but I do. And I am telling you right here and now, as your king, that you will stay away from him. If you can’t bring yourself to trust the man who was the first one to believe in us, who helped us in this unfamiliar time and place, you can sit back and wait until you’re called for. I have no need of you right now.’

Every word felt like a blow to the heart. He shivered, staring up at the person who was supposed to be the other side of his coin. Arthur couldn’t really do this, could he? ‘Arthur, please,’ he begged, one last attempt to get him to understand.

‘Unless you plan to end with an apology, I really do not want to hear it.’ This Arthur reminded Merlin strongly of the arrogant and proud prince Merlin had met all those years ago.

‘You’ve got to see what he is really like, Arthur!’ he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in desperation. ‘He agreed to hand you over to Morgana. You can’t trust him!’

‘Enough!’ Arthur bellowed, probably loud enough to be audible in the meeting room. ‘Get out of my sight, Merlin.’

‘But…’

‘That is an order.’

The words hurt like nothing else had ever hurt him. All he had ever done was try to keep Arthur safe from his many enemies. He had never meant for this to happen. He had never even considered that this could happen, because he had long since accepted that he would always be at Arthur’s side. They were friends, best friends, even though Arthur had yet to acknowledge that. Right now however he doubted that would ever happen. Right now their friendship had just been smashed to pieces, broken beyond repair.

And so he obeyed.

 

***

 

These sleepless nights were becoming a habit, Arthur observed as he sipped from his coffee. The clock on the wall told him that it was at least still two hours before the first officer would show up on the Grid, but Arthur’s body refused to act on that knowledge and go back to sleep. He was awake now and the thoughts were running around his head like a treadmill spinning wildly out of control.

The Grid was strangely empty. There were no officers and the absence of the usual buzz of working machinery somehow started to bother the king of Camelot. It was too silent. In Camelot this was normal, but in London it wasn’t and in the last few days he had become used to always hearing something.

Right now he was not only wide awake, but also frustrated to no end. He was still practically locked up in Thames House, the only place where Morgana could neither see nor abduct him. Merlin had done some more mysterious spells that made his eyes turn flaming gold and the building impenetrable with magic. Apparently that also meant that no sorcerer could possibly appear magically inside. Arthur had to agree, albeit reluctantly, that it would make sense to keep him here until they had caught Morgana, but the restrictions of his movements started to really bother him.

And then there was of course Merlin’s strange behaviour. Arthur had been thinking about that one long and hard. He had always known that Merlin was strangely protective of him, but until recently he blamed that on their unacknowledged friendship. But now he knew better. Merlin protected him because he was destined to do so. Even worse, Merlin had killed people, with magic, to protect Arthur. The very thought made the king sick to his stomach.

So yes, he would not deny that he himself had on occasion been guilty of killing other people, mainly bandits and evil sorcerers, to keep his people safe. He was a warrior after all and he was, as he had once told Merlin, trained to kill since birth. It was another matter entirely to know that these things were also done by his gentle servant.

But how well did he know Merlin really? There were so many sides to him that Arthur had never seen before and it scared him. He didn’t even know how real his friendship with the younger man had been. What if Merlin only acted like that because he had to be at Arthur’s side because of some stupid destiny Arthur himself had never even heard about?

All these questions had kept him up till late and made him wake early, secretly grateful to have the place to himself for once. He had stayed again in one of the rooms close to the Grid while the rest of the team headed home. Merlin had gone with Jo, he thought, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. For now the absence of his servant was a blessing rather than a nuisance. If the younger man kept this behaviour up Arthur may yet be converted to Lucas’s view on friends.

And speaking of the devil. The pods made the by now familiar whooshing sound and let in a bleary-eyed Lucas North. The spook looked as if he hadn’t slept at all, which may not have been far off the mark. Arthur knew of the man’s insomnia and nightmares and with such stress as he had to deal with, it was not strange if sleep eluded him. Arthur was experiencing a similar problem at the moment.

‘Morning,’ he called out.

Lucas had been making a beeline for his desk, but changed directions towards the kitchen join Arthur. ‘Morning,’ he greeted. ‘Or should I say good night still?’ He conjured up a smile that was close to the one he had smiled before this whole mess had begun.

‘Morning will do,’ Arthur replied. ‘Coffee?’

Lucas nodded. ‘Why aren’t you doing a beauty sleep?’

‘Same reason why you aren’t, I suppose.’ The king handed him a steaming mug of coffee. ‘Thinking about the operation,’ he clarified, before grimacing. ‘Or rather the lack of an operation.’

Lucas studied his face. ‘You said you trusted me, back in the meeting room. Why?’

Arthur shrugged. He couldn’t really put a name to it. He just had this feeling that the other man was trustworthy. But, as Ros had so eloquently phrased it, the Service didn’t base its decisions on the feelings of its officers, so he repeated the explanation he had also given to the Section Chief. ‘You spent eight years in prison without betraying your kingdom. It would be strange for you to do it on practically your first operation after all that.’

Lucas gave him a wry smile in reply. ‘Some would consider it the very reason why I would be vulnerable to Morgana.’

Arthur knew that. He had heard the talk on the Grid. And maybe it was a good reason why anyone would turn traitor, anyone but this man he was now talking to. He had a stronger sense of loyalty than even Arthur had. For this man to betray his team, his _home_ would be beyond ridiculous and it would be about time that Harry started seeing it as well. Right now, the head of Section D was behaving like a headless chicken, something he may have let slip in passing the other night. It hadn’t been very much appreciated.

The king threw his spoon back on the counter with more force than strictly necessary. The whole turn of events was frustrating him more and more by the minute. ‘We were so close to getting to Morgana,’ he growled. ‘If only Harry would allow us to go in there under the pretence of you handing me to her…’ He let his voice trail off.

Lucas merely sipped his coffee, staring towards the Grid, lost in thought. Arthur wondered if he had even heard him talk. But that didn’t really matter anyway, because the king of Camelot just had an idea. It was a foolish, reckless idea. Some might even call it suicidal. But it was a plan all the same.

‘We could still do it,’ he muttered thoughtfully.

It must have been the tone that snapped Lucas out of his musings. After all, it was very unlikely for Arthur to talk in that manner. ‘Do what?’ he questioned.

‘Go to Morgana together,’ he clarified, realising he had not been very clear just now. ‘We don’t ask for permission. We’ll just do it.’

The spook stared at him as if he had just lost his mind. ‘Didn’t you hear Harry at all? He explicitly forbade us from going.’

Arthur snorted. ‘I am the king of Camelot,’ he reminded the other. ‘Harry Pearce is not really in the position to command me to do anything. And I am coming willingly.’

It was silent for a while. Lucas was rubbing his chin absent-mindedly and Arthur let him think it over for a while. After all, he was asking him to risk a lot. He had no illusions that if they did this, they would not only break every rule in existence, but they would also place themselves in enormous danger without having the luxury of back-up. Suicidal, as some might say.

But it was also a chance, a chance of finally catching and killing Morgana. It was Arthur’s duty to do that. No matter how much he struggled with his feelings of regret over her turning evil, no matter how much he wished for her to see reason and repent her crimes, she had also caused so much damage already. Arthur vividly recalled her reign of terror in that short time she had held the throne. And it were no longer only the citizens of Camelot at risk here. The station bombing had claimed forty-one lives so far. It was his duty to stop her from creating any more carnage and it was for sure that Harry’s approach would never do the trick.

‘If this goes wrongly, Harry will have both our heads,’ Lucas pointed out eventually. He was still looking right ahead, not meeting Arthur’s gaze.

 _If this goes wrongly, they’ll be collecting bits of us to bury._ But Lucas would know that as well. He had been in this job far longer than Arthur could ever hope to be. ‘I am prepared to take that risk.’

The spook nodded slowly, finally turning to look at the king. There was a thoughtful look in his eyes. No doubt he was already planning what to do. Merlin had the exact same twinkle in his gaze whenever he was plotting something rather illegal. ‘Give me a few minutes to prepare,’ he said.

Arthur nodded. He felt a little nervous, although he would never admit to that when called on it. But the nerves were drowned out by the excitement that was taking over his system. It was the thrill of the danger and knowing that he was doing something that would surely earn him a stay in the basement holding cells of Thames House if anyone was to find out what they were planning before they were well on their way.

He downed the last remnants of his coffee quickly and quickly scribbled a note for the first one to come across his desk. This mission was secret for now, but by the time the team would start arriving it would be too late to stop them anyway. He might as well stop them from worrying.

A few desks away Lucas was doing something similar, Arthur supposed. He was laying something on Ros’s desk and then came over to where Arthur was waiting, a small bag in his hand. ‘Ready?’

Arthur ignored that treacherous voice in the back of his head saying that he was everything but ready and nodded. ‘Ready.’

Without another word they left the Grid, taking the stairs down to the abandoned car park. Somehow the complete absence of people made the nerves worse and he was glad there was no need for them to keep up some kind of conversation.

‘When we leave this building we will become visible to Morgana’s visions,’ Lucas suddenly said as they walked over to the big black car they were apparently going to use.

Arthur nodded thoughtfully, feeling stupid for not having thought of this before now. ‘You will need to tie me up or something to make it look believable or she will suspect something is off,’ he agreed. ‘She knows I trust you, but still.’

He stopped when Lucas came to a halt as well. ‘You’re right,’ the spook nodded. He produced an apologetic smile. ‘I am really sorry about doing this.’

 _Doing what?_ Arthur meant to ask, but he was distracted by a stinging sensation on his right hand. He looked down, just in time to see a needle being removed from his flesh. ‘What…?’

He wasn’t capable of saying anything else. His world swam out of focus and he knew no more.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

 

It was a few minutes before four in the morning, or so the clock on the wall of Jo’s living room told him. Merlin shook his head at it and proceeded to the kitchen, too wound up to sleep any longer.

He had been in a state of shock since yesterday afternoon, he supposed. The very thing he had feared, Arthur sending him away, had shaken him to the core, leaving him with the feeling as if the ground had suddenly disappeared from underneath his very feet, leaving him falling into nothing. He had never consciously given it much thought, but now that he came to think of it, protecting Arthur had become his main purpose in life. There was hardly room for anything else.

And now he had been bereft of that. Arthur had as good as kicked him out of his service, leaving Merlin out in the cold, wondering what he was supposed to do with himself now. He already felt like climbing up the walls in frustration. Of course he could still help Section D to bring this operation to a successful conclusion. His help may even need to prove invaluable before the end, especially if they were to directly take on Morgana. But ultimately defeating Morgana wasn’t his destiny. It was a small part of it, yes, but it was protecting Arthur that was his real goal in life and he had just been robbed of his best chance of doing that.

Of course he could always protect Arthur from a distance. He had done so a few times before, but it wasn’t ideal. And he was quite certain Arthur would not thank him for it, even if it were Merlin’s actions that saved his life in the end.

He felt empty, he decided. Arthur had been his friend, a brother in many ways. To have that stolen away was like missing an essential part of himself. He supposed it was only to be expected, with Arthur being what the Great Dragon called ‘the other side of Merlin’s coin.’

This had happened before, the warlock remembered as he poured himself some coffee in the hope that it would clear his head somewhat. Back in the day, when he had only just been appointed Arthur’s servant, he had been dismissed from his service as well. Then he had not even really liked Arthur, but even then he had been out of sorts. Now, he was devastated.

_I no longer require your services._

_I have no need of you right now._

_I need a servant I can trust._

_This makes me sick._

_Get out of my sight!_

_That is an order._

Arthur’s words from both past and present went through his head until he could not tell them apart. And maybe there was no need for that either. After all the message was the same and Merlin could not see it this easily remedied this time as it had been then. The rift was too deep, the gap too wide. Back then it had been only about Valiant’s cheating in the tournament. Now there was so much more at stake. This time it wasn’t just about the operation and Lucas’s loyalties, it was also, first and foremost, actually about them and where they stood now that the secret of Merlin’s magic was out. And wherever it was that they stood, their friendship was probably ruined forever.

He only returned to the here and now when Jo, still bleary-eyed and a little clumsy with sleep, stumbled into the kitchen. ‘You’re up early,’ she commented, trying and failing to suppress a yawn.

He conjured up something resembling a smile. ‘You too,’ he countered.

She grinned wryly. ‘Bad dreams,’ she muttered. ‘And then I saw the light downstairs, so I figured you hadn’t been able to get any sleep either.’ She studied him carefully. ‘Did you get any sleep at all last night?’

Merlin shook his head. ‘Coffee?’ he asked, hoping to escape her questioning. He liked Jo, he really did, but he wasn’t sure he was quite ready to discuss this with anyone just yet. It was still too fresh, too painful. He wasn’t even sure what he really felt himself, never mind that he knew what he was supposed to be doing now.

‘Yes, please,’ she said, yawning again. ‘Sorry.’ A rather sheepish grin followed the apology. ‘You feel really bad, don’t you?’

His resolve not to talk about this melted away in an instant. ‘We’ve just never fought, not like that. I mean, we had disagreements before and he’s thrown me in the dungeons and in the cells, but it’s never been like this. He sent me away this time and there’s so much hate and anger.’

‘Maybe he just needs to sleep on it,’ Jo replied wisely. ‘You were both tired and wound up yesterday.’ She accepted the coffee he offered her with a grateful nod. ‘You both feel strongly about this case. There’s nothing wrong with that. Arthur reminds me of Adam, our previous Section Chief, sometimes. He too could be so passionate about things, you know.’ A sad smile graced her features. ‘He too would have thought it a shame to doubt one of our own.’

Merlin had heard snippets of information about this Adam person. Whoever he had been, it was clear that he had been greatly appreciated on the Grid, and that he had some resemblance, and not just in looks, to the king of Camelot.

‘And do you?’ he wondered. ‘Doubt Lucas, I mean?’

Jo didn’t meet his eyes. She took a spoon and stirred the sugar through her coffee. ‘I don’t want to,’ she replied after a lengthy silence. ‘He has been through a lot in Russia…’

‘And you can relate to that because you have been in a similar situation,’ Merlin understood, recalling what she had told him on his first night in London. He could understand that she was unwilling to distrust someone who had endured the trials she herself had faced, but in Merlin’s opinion that didn’t make Lucas any less of a traitor. ‘Apart from that?’ he urged. ‘Do you think he’s betrayed us?’

She bit her lip. ‘I’m not sure,’ she admitted. ‘He’s so difficult to read. It’s like… We never can’t be sure about what he thinks. On one hand Malcolm keeps saying that he was a really good spook before Russia, capable of even fooling Harry from time to time. On the other hand it all feels so real. I’m not sure anyone can act that well. He really flew off the handle when he learned you had poisoned Morgana.’ That made her look up. ‘You really did, didn’t you?’ When she asked there was no accusation, no hurt in her voice. There was only a genuine desire to know the whole story.

Merlin nodded. He didn’t remember giving himself permission to speak, but the words came rolling out of his mouth anyway. ‘Morgana was the vessel for a spell,’ he told her softly. ‘It made all of Camelot fall asleep so that Morgause and her men could take over Camelot without any resistance. Morgana… I don’t think she even knew she was the vessel. She was scared and confused. She didn’t know why everyone around her fell asleep and she stayed awake.’ He looked down at the mug in his hands, trying to force back the memories that tried to overtake his mind as he told the tale. ‘The only way to break the spell was to kill the vessel to which it was bound, so I tricked Morgana into drinking poisoned water.’

Jo frowned. ‘But she is still very much alive,’ she pointed out, confused. ‘She didn’t die then.’

Merlin shook his head. ‘Morgause must have felt her spell weakening. I’m not really sure, but she came in, yelling Morgana’s name. She commanded me to tell her what I had given Morgana. She was already unconscious by the time, so she never knew what really happened then, I think.’ He shook his head as if he could shake the unwelcome memories away with the simple movement. ‘Morgause threatened to kill me where I stood, I told her that in that case Morgana would die with me. In the end Morgause all but begged me for the cure. I told her she could have it if she lifted the spell.’

‘You couldn’t do that?’ Jo wondered. ‘I mean, you’re a powerful warlock…’

Merlin shook his head. ‘I didn’t know that many spells back then and I doubt anyone but the caster could have undone it anyway.’ As the silence dragged on, he added: ‘I didn’t have any other choice, Jo. If I’d done nothing, we would all have died.’

The blonde spook shook her head, downing the last remnants of her coffee. ‘I didn’t think that. I just think you should have told this to Lucas when he asked about it.’

Merlin threw her an incredulous look. ‘He would not have listened.’

‘He listened to Arthur,’ Jo countered. ‘He may be on Morgana’s side now, but he would still have listened.’ She bit her lip again. ‘It might have given him another reason not to turn to her side if you had been open with him. I’m not saying it’s your fault, Merlin, but it could have made a difference.’

That took the warlock by surprise. He had never even looked at it like this. ‘You really think so?’

She nodded fervently. ‘I think he’s vulnerable now. Harry thinks so too.’

Merlin arched an eyebrow. ‘He didn’t look vulnerable to me.’ More like cold, determined and dangerous, but never vulnerable or weak.

‘I’m not supposed to say this, I think, but we all suspect that he more or less blames Harry for his ordeal in Russia.’ Jo looked at the tiles. ‘He doesn’t have anything against you or Arthur…’

A few dots connected in Merlin’s head. ‘Until I gave him a reason to,’ he realised, wanting to bang his head against the wall for not thinking of that earlier. ‘Do you think he’ll be on the Grid?’ If there was a chance, no matter how small, that he could still turn this around, should he not take it? If there was just a small chance of Lucas remaining on the straight and narrow and appeasing Arthur in the same conversation, then that wasn’t really much of a choice at all. He would take that chance.

Jo glanced at the watch. It was only half past four. ‘He suffers from insomnia,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘And he tends to go into work earlier whenever he can’t sleep. He might already be there.’

Merlin felt slightly guilty about asking this. Slightly. ‘Do you think we could…?’ he wondered.

She smiled at him, the look in her eyes telling him she had already expected this question. ‘Give me ten minutes.’

Merlin was eternally grateful to her. For the first time since last afternoon he felt something that might well be called hope. It felt like he had some measure of control over the situation again and that was by no means an unwelcome feeling. In all his time in Camelot he had never felt so helpless as in the last twelve hours. But now it was within his powers again to do something about the situation.

Jo drove faster than was permitted, Merlin was sure. His stomach still protested against the very notion of sitting in a car that moved faster than a horse, but he found that he could ignore the movements now. It was remarkable what physical discomforts one was able to forget about when there were far more important things occupying one’s mind.

Jo drove the car into the car park just as another car, a big black one, was leaving. Merlin raised his eyebrows. ‘Do you lot work that late normally?’ he wondered.

His companion gave the passing vehicle a fleeting glance. ‘Sometimes, yes,’ she nodded. ‘Frequently, actually. And Harry is known to be spending entire nights on the Grid, with only whisky for company. Ros too, I think, but then without the whisky.’ She grinned at him.

Now that things didn’t look so glum anymore, Merlin found himself capable of giving her a genuine smile in return. ‘And you only know that because you’ve seen that yourself?’ he teased lightly.

Jo turned off the motor and got out of the car. Merlin followed her example, sending her an amused look from over the vehicle. She laughed. ‘No, but they sometimes tend to be at their desks already when I arrive in the morning, still in the same clothes they wore the day before. How about you?’

He grinned guiltily. ‘Frequently,’ he confessed. ‘And the worst thing about that is that Arthur somehow seems to think I spent all that time in the tavern, even when I was actually too busy saving his ungrateful backside at the time.’ Those words came out harsher than he had really meant them. But it was true: it had been bothering him from time to time, especially when Arthur was being his charming I-am-the-king-and-I-am-God’s-gift-to-mankind self again.

‘He can be a bit of an arrogant prat, yes,’ Jo admitted.

This got a chuckle out of him. ‘I told him the very same thing the first time I met him,’ he reminisced. ‘Naturally he didn’t like that and had me in the stocks right away to be pelted with rotten fruit.’

‘Really?’ Jo shot him an incredulous look. ‘He seemed… well, reasonable, _just_ , is the word, I suppose.’

‘It was years ago,’ Merlin explained. And sometimes he longed for those times. Things had not always been fun, but they certainly seemed simpler than they were now.

They had reached the Grid now and the pods prevented them from talking for a few seconds. Those few seconds of silence made him realise once again that he was here to set some things right. The prospect of having to recount the tale a second time in a few hours’ time made his stomach twist and turn in protest. Poisoning Morgana had been the worst thing he’d ever had to do and he had never been able to look back on the event without regret, even if he knew he had no choice in the matter. He certainly wasn’t proud of his actions.

So he could not quite decide if he was disappointed or relieved when the Grid proved to be entirely empty. His eyes sought out Arthur’s desk right away. The surface was covered in papers and files, scattered all over the furniture in a very Arthurian way. It closely resembled the king’s own desk in Camelot.

The king in question however was nowhere to be seen. He must have been succeeding better at falling asleep than Merlin himself. Well, he was not in a hurry to face the Once and Future King so soon already. Even if he had cooled off some, he was certainly not going to be in a good mood this early in the morning and Merlin knew better than to wake him before sunrise. He doubted Arthur would get away with throwing goblets at his head around here, but that would not stop the king from giving his servant a tongue-lashing of legendary proportions for waking him before the crack of dawn.

The man he had come here to see wasn’t there either. His desk too was abandoned, although his working place was in far less disarray than Arthur’s. Lucas was an organised person, Merlin had found out. If he was on their side that would have been a good thing, but if he wasn’t it would only mean that whatever plan he had to deliver Arthur into Morgana’s hands would be well thought about and that would make it that much harder for the rest of them to stop him from doing the unthinkable.

‘Would you like to have another coffee?’ Jo asked as she made her way to the small kitchen.

Well, they had a long day ahead and one more cup surely wouldn’t hurt. ‘Yes, please,’ he called to her. ‘If it isn’t too much trouble.’ He had been a servant for too long, he supposed. He wasn’t used to people doing things for him. He was used to do them for other people, not the other way around. But he had to admit that it did feel nice for once.

Merlin looked around the Grid, wondering what to do with himself now that he could not yet do what he had come for. He supposed he could always try and follow up some of the tips that had come in during the day concerning Morgana’s whereabouts. Most of them would be rubbish to be sure, but they could not afford to leave even one stone unturned, not when there was a real chance of finding her before she managed to wreak any more havoc on the citizens of this kingdom.

But then his eye fell on Arthur’s desk again and the servant’s instinct won out. He wasn’t officially sacked yet and he was being paid to clear Arthur’s mess, so that was what he would do. And it was something he knew how to do. It was a familiar task and right now that was what he needed to calm his nerves.

He at least didn’t have to wonder about what the king had been working on before he had gone to sleep. Hogan’s file lay open on the desk, several papers from it all over the place. Some of the king’s own notes that were written on those yellow papers they called post-its were attached to them. Arthur must really care about this if he made such work out of it. Somehow Merlin had overlooked just how much. The warlock may want to take down Morgana, but Arthur was no less passionate about it, he now found. And if he truly believed that sending Lucas undercover was the way to achieve their goal, it was understandable why he had gotten so mad when Harry pulled Lucas off the case.

But hopefully, maybe, it was not too late to mend the rift. Suddenly Merlin found himself hoping Arthur would wake from the noises on the Grid, so that they could sit down and have another, honest conversation. Merlin was pretty sure he would say anything the king wanted him to if only that would mean they could restore their previous friendship.

He was just establishing that as something else suddenly caught his attention. It was a note written on a piece of paper that had been taped against the screen of the computer on his desk.

 

_Lucas and I have gone to deal with Morgana. Do not send the cavalry after us. We’ll be perfectly fine. We’ll be in touch. Arthur Pendragon, king of Camelot._

 

Merlin read it and read it again. At first the words refused to make sense. It seemed quite ridiculous, especially since Arthur had attached his royal seal to the message. But the message itself was far from laughable. It was a downright disaster if nothing else.

‘Oh, Arthur, what have you done?’ he moaned when the meaning finally fully registered in his mind. Had the king been out of his mind? What had he been thinking, going with the traitor  without informing anyone else of the team?

The worst thing was that Merlin was wholly convinced this hare-brained scheme was entirely of Arthur’s own making. He had as good as suggested this already yesterday in the meeting room. Of course it had been slapped down instantly, but Arthur was a stubborn clotpole if nothing else. The warlock could all too easily imagine how the king had presented this plan to Lucas. And he was fairly sure that he would have had no problems whatsoever in “convincing” the spook into giving this plan a try. He had as good as proposed his own death sentence.

‘Merlin, are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’ He only vaguely became aware of Jo’s voice talking to him and her hand on his shoulder.

Without a word he took the note from the screen and handed it to her so she could read the message as well. All the blood drained from her face. ‘We should red-flash the team,’ she spoke after half a minute of silence. ‘Immediately.’

 

***

 

Arthur was confused. That was probably the best word to describe his mental state. He was completely and utterly confused.

He opened his eyes to sheer darkness. For a moment he doubted that he had even opened them at all, because it didn’t really seem to make a difference at all. Maybe he was still sleeping, only dreaming of darkness. That idea would have made sense, were it not that he did not have any recollection of going to sleep in the first place. Besides, he was sure he would have found himself a far more comfortable position to sleep in if that had really been the case.

He could not really feel the rest of his body, a fact that disturbed him even more. Whatever it was that had happened to him, he very much doubted it would have been pleasant.

He tried to feel something now that his eyes refused to provide him with information. The first thing that he could make out that he was lying on a relatively hard surface. His shoulder protested against the maltreatment. He was being shaken by some force that came from outside his small and dark prison. Arthur strongly suspected that he was somewhere in a large box or a coffin that was being moved. That realisation surely did nothing to steady his nerves, or his stomach for that matter.

The king of Camelot felt like throwing up. Being transported like this reminded him strongly of being on a ship that was being tossed about in a storm on open sea. He had the pleasure of experiencing that once in his life and had not found himself eager to repeat it. His stomach heaved with every movement and he felt slightly dizzy as well. Add to that that his head was pounding like it had ended up between hammer and anvil and his mouth felt like he hadn’t had something to drink for at least several weeks and it would be safe to say that Arthur Pendragon felt positively miserable.

The worst thing was that he could still not for the life of him figure out how on earth he had managed to get himself into such a tight spot. The last thing he remembered was being on the Grid, holding a cup of coffee, wondering about what he was supposed to do with Merlin’s strange behaviour and the operation Harry had so foolishly called off because the head of Section D didn’t seem to think his best officer was trustworthy in the field anymore.

He tried to follow it on from there, straining his memory. Lucas had come in, he now recalled, and they had talked. He wasn’t exactly sure what the topic had been, but it would be safe to assume that it was in some way related to the operation. They had been on the same page about that, most definitely.

Arthur’s forehead wrinkled in concentration as he tried and failed to conjure up what had happened next, the missing links as to why he was now in this dark place with his hands bound in front of him and something taped over his mouth to prevent him from speaking.

They had been discussing the meeting. Arthur now recalled Lucas mentioning that. They had also been speaking about trust, although briefly, and then he had said something about… The memory suddenly hit him with the force of a sledgehammer being swung full force against his chest. He had been proposing to go out and do it themselves. They would ignore Harry’s orders and go to Morgana themselves to deal with her once and for all. Arthur remembered now. That had been the plan. He would pose as a prisoner in order not to alarm his half-sister before they could reveal their true intent, which meant that Arthur had to be tied up for the journey. But he hadn’t had a problem with that. He had proposed it himself after all.

What he had not proposed was the needle that Lucas had stuck in his flesh several seconds later. The spook had told him he was sorry for doing this. After that there was just no more memory, nothing between that moment of passing out and waking up in this dark hole, which he now believed to be the boot of a car.

Arthur wondered why he had agreed to this. On the Grid it had seemed like the best option they had, no, the _only_ option still open to them. Here, tied up and all alone, Arthur Pendragon started to doubt Lucas North for the first time. So yes, they had to make it convincing. He understood the need for that. But this? This was more than convincing. This was so convincing Arthur himself could not tell for sure it was even an act.

He told himself he was being a fool, a dollophead, as Merlin so often liked to call him. Morgana wouldn’t fall for an only loosely tied-up king of Camelot. She was being paranoid enough to question that, especially after last afternoon. Her faith in Lucas had already been greatly lessened, so the king understood that this was not the time for half-hard measures. But this, he had not even known about this. He had just been sedated without as much as a warning and now he was here, waiting to be handed over to Morgana on a silver platter.

The noise of what Arthur suspected to be a motor stopped, as did the movement that had made him want to throw up. He expected that someone would soon come for him, but he could only hear the slamming of a door and then the silence returned, leaving the king of Camelot alone with his thoughts.

Arthur was severely tempted to kick against the sides of his prison in the hope that anyone would hear him and come to his rescue, but a little voice in the back of his head told him that would be useless. Morgana and Hogan preferred abandoned places for their meetings. The only ones to hear him if he started to make noise were his enemies and those were the last persons he wanted to come and find him.

And Lucas, how had he been able to treat him like that? Arthur believed them to be friends. _Friends are either a nuisance or they’re boring_. He could recall Lucas’s voice all too easily and Arthur realised he had been a fool. He had let himself be led around by the nose like the dollophead that he was, ignoring Merlin’s far more realistic assessment of the situation.

_I have been so blind._

It would not even be the first time this happened. He had been ignoring Morgana’s strange behaviour as well. Then too it had been Merlin who had been on to her long before everyone else. Arthur himself had thought nothing of it, had conveniently ignored all the signs telling him that Morgana had changed. Only when she took the crown and kingdom from his father with an immortal army had he realised that those signs had been there all along.

And he had clearly not learned from his mistakes, because here he was, the result of once again trusting someone he should have been wary of right away. Arthur was quite sure Merlin would tell him _I told you so_ when, no _if_ , they met again. And he would be right to say it too, Arthur would even admit to that if only he would make it out alive.

He was snapped out of his musings by the sound of people talking and laughing. This would have been reassuring if Arthur had not recognised one of the voices as belonging to Morgana. A cold shiver went down his spine. This was really it. He was really about to be delivered to his worst enemy and there was no doubt that she wanted nothing more than to see him dead.

The hopelessness of his own situation became all too clear to him. Thanks to his own foolishness it might still be hours before someone would come across his note. It was hard to measure time here in the dark and he had no clue as to how long he had been unconscious. It may have been minutes, it may have been hours. But even if Section D had already started what Ros called a full-scale witch-hunt, they would have no idea where to start searching and by the time they had located him it would most likely be far too late already. He felt like he was going to throw up all over again.

The boot of the car was opened and light filled his prison. Arthur blinked against it. He would have used his hands to shield his eyes, but as it was he was still incapable of moving.

But it would be good to know who was facing him. If he was going to die, he was not going to die like a coward, hiding from the world, cowering back into the prison he so hated in the first place. He was a warrior, not a frightened child.

After a few times of blinking he could make out Lucas’s face looking down on him. The man’s expression was totally blank. If there was one thing that could be said about it, it would be that it was unreadable. Arthur hadn’t got a clue as to what he was thinking

The spook grabbed him and literally yanked him out of the car and to his feet. The movement was so sudden that Arthur’s stomach protested, making him want to vomit all over the place, or preferably all over his captor who had betrayed him. He felt light-headed and unsteady. Only Lucas’s death grip on his arms prevented him from collapsing on the spot. He had no idea what he had been sedated with, but it was strong and not that good for a human body it would seem.

‘Act scared and betrayed,’ he could hear someone whisper near his right ear. It was spoken so softly that Arthur first believed it to be some kind of hallucination. It was only when the last instruction reached him that he realised that Lucas, under the pretence of steadying him, had leaned close to him. ‘Struggle.’ That instruction was followed by the rather painful removal of the tape from over his mouth, making Arthur gasp.

But it wasn’t just the pain that made him inhale sharply. Could it be? Could it really be that this was still an act? Arthur found he had great difficulty believing that. But then, he was in a totally different time than his own. Maybe this really was the way things were done here. Arthur could not know for sure, but he found that he _wanted_ to believe it. Because that would mean that Lucas still knew what he was doing. The spook would keep Arthur safe, _if_ he really still was on their side.

But that mattered not anyway. It was all too easy for the king to act betrayed and scared. He felt both emotions strongly, to the point where they might overwhelm him. No need for acting in that department. Struggling was a little more difficult. Arthur still was weak, frustratingly so, and it was already a job in and out of itself to even remain standing on his own two feet without help.

‘Look at you now, dear brother,’ a mocking voice commented. ‘So weak, so helpless.’

Arthur only now remembered he had indeed heard Morgana’s voice. He looked up, seeing her leaning against a nearby tree. Behind her was the man whose face Arthur knew from the file he had been ploughing through since five o’clock yesterday afternoon. In real life he was even less impressive than on the photographs Arthur had seen: fat, lazy and extremely bored he didn’t feel like a dangerous enemy to the king. But Arthur had no illusions. This guy had assisted Morgana in the station bombings. There was no doubt that he was more lethal than he looked.

‘Morgana,’ he acknowledged with as cold a voice as he could manage.

Her responding smirk would surely plague his nightmares for years to come, if he lived long enough to have any, that was. ‘Welcome, brother. It’s been far too long.’ It could have been a friendly greeting, a casual remark on how long it had been that they had seen each other, had they been different people. Now, there was only hatred and malice in her voice, the likes of which Arthur had never heard before. ‘We should spend some time catching up.’

Arthur could only look at her. She had changed so much. Her dress was black, resembling the darkness within, he supposed, and her hair was messy. He hardly recognised the sophisticated and good-humoured girl with her colourful dresses and her love of jewellery in this cold and scheming witch. But the eyes were the same, even if the expression in them was so much colder than he had been used to.

Morgana’s attention shifted to Lucas. ‘You surprise me, Lucas,’ she drawled. ‘Our friend here was convinced you would not be able to get your hands on him.’

‘I aim to please, my lady,’ Lucas replied pleasantly. ‘And it was not that hard to get my hands on him at all. The naïve fool even proposed it himself.’ A bark of laughter followed. ‘And there won’t be anyone coming after us, because they don’t know where we went.’

Arthur felt like he had swallowed a large piece of ice. This was not an act at all, was it? This was real. No one could act so well. He conjured up every bit of energy he still had and started to struggle. Part of him knew it would be no use at all, but he could not do nothing while he was about to die. He was a warrior and that meant that he would not go down without a fight.

But his struggling was pathetic and he knew it. He was far too weak and Lucas far too strong. It wasn’t much of a contest and he was all too aware of that.

Morgana snorted at his attempts. ‘Take him inside,’ she ordered.

Arthur was manhandled to the nearest building, which he had not even noticed until Morgana mentioned it. It was nothing more than a large barn, standing in what looked to the middle of nowhere. All he could see where fields and a bit of forest far off in the distance. There were no houses nearby, no people to be seen.

He still tried to resist Lucas’s hold on his person, but he didn’t even seem to feel all the effort Arthur put into it. He dragged the king with him into the barn, after which Hogan closed the door and bolted it. There was no way out.

The place had most likely been in disuse for years. There were cobwebs all over the place and it was dusty too, but somehow it seemed to fit this new Morgana. The old one would have shied away from places like this, scared that some of her precious dresses might get dirty. This new one leaned against a dirty wall without hesitating and somehow it helped Arthur to see the difference in her, to make a difference between the kind and justice loving woman he had grown up with and this evil witch bent on his destruction.

‘What happened to you, Morgana?’ He had been meaning to only think it, but the words came out of his mouth anyway. ‘I thought we were friends.’ The question came right out of his heart. He had never wished her ill, had never even hurt her. He had not known about her magic until she had used it for evil, but he knew for sure he would never have been capable of harming her in any way. He would have accepted her, magic and all, like he had done Merlin. So how did she come to hate him so much?

‘As did I.’ The reply was soft-spoken, almost vulnerable, but the hard edge found its way back into her voice almost right away. ‘But alas we were both wrong.’

It struck him then. She looked at him and saw only Uther. ‘You can’t blame me for my father’s sins,’ he told her. Quite frankly, the notion was ridiculous.

‘It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?’ she sneered. ‘You’ve made it perfectly clear how you feel about me and my kind.’ She looked at him as if he was the single most disgusting thing she had ever laid eyes on. ‘And yet you allow a sorcerer of your own to do your dirty work for you. Tell me, dear brother, how long have you used Merlin for your own ends, used him to kill his own kind? How _did_ you manage to turn a sorcerer to aid you in your precious war against magic?’

It was more like Merlin had used himself to do all those things Arthur would probably never know about. ‘You’re wrong, Morgana,’ he told her, all the while wondering why he was even trying to reason with her when it was obvious that she would not listen, no matter what he said.

‘It’s all words, Arthur,’ she scowled. ‘You’re not as different from Uther as you’d like to think.’

Arthur knew that. He knew he had made mistakes. Magic was still outlawed in his kingdom, but before Morgana showed up in London, he had already been planning to change that. He was not his father. But looking at his half-sister now, he could tell that she was. She may not resemble their father in looks, but deep down they were so alike that it frightened Arthur. They were equally cold, calculating, passionate about the things they cared about, ruthless in their ways of achieving them.

‘Nor are you,’ he told her. Somehow the fear of dying seemed to have left him. He had all but forgotten about the presence of the two others in the room. Now all he felt was sadness and regret for what could have been if they had all acted differently. Where had they gone wrong and was there anything Arthur could have done that would have avoided them ending up here?

But this had been the wrong thing to say. The look in Morgana’s eyes hardened and she backed away from him as if he had physically hit her. Had he believed that there would still be a way to turn back the tide, that hope was now gone. All he could see was this witch, this stranger as she held out her hand towards his chest. ‘I’m going to enjoy killing you, Arthur Pendragon. Not even Emrys can save you now.’


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

 

The meeting room was filled with confused officers who did not understand why they had been red-flashed before the crack of dawn. They had all come in, one after the other, all bleary-eyed, all thinking Morgana had struck again. Harry had been the first to enter, with a tie that was pulled down halfway to his chest and a look on his face that predicted storm for the foreseeable future. Jo had taken him to his office to explain what had happened and show him the note. It was a good thing those doors and windows were soundproof, because Merlin was one hundred percent sure that his reaction involved a good deal of shouting.

To him the task had fallen to direct every other officer to the meeting room for the official briefing that was scheduled to start as soon as everyone had arrived. Connie had come in straight after Harry, looking positively indignant because she had been woken before she wanted to, and Ben followed just behind. He had disappeared straight to the kitchen to make coffee for everyone, which was probably just as well, because the team looked still positively asleep. Malcolm was a little more awake and seemed to grasp immediately what really was going on, even though Merlin had not told him. He had given the warlock a solemn nod before walking over to the meeting room.

Malcolm at least seemed to be understanding what was at stake here, seemed to sense something of Merlin’s anxiety. The warlock was trying to keep the panic at bay, but it was difficult. Every minute they wasted here lessened the chance of Arthur being still alive. Morgana would not take chances, Merlin knew. She had let slip Arthur through her fingers too many times already. She would not want to take the risk to lose him again. If she wanted the throne of Camelot, and Merlin knew that she did, then Arthur had to go. Once he was gone she would have a legitimate claim. He shook his head. No, she would have the _only_ claim and that idea alone was more than enough to turn Merlin’s blood to ice.

And he had been unable to protect him. He had gone and left Thames House with Jo, leaving the king of Camelot vulnerable, without protection. Oh, he had warded the place so heavily that it would be impossible for Morgana to get in here. And he, idiot that he was, had believed that to be enough. He had completely forgotten about the danger from within and Arthur’s own blind faith in Lucas’s good intentions. And so he had failed. After years of fighting, of doing whatever it took to make sure that Arthur survived, he had now failed because he had let one argument make him forget about his priorities.

His fists clenched and unclenched in frustration. He was still holed up here, unable to do anything even remotely useful while the time dragged on. Arthur could be dead by now. The Once and Future King could have died and Merlin would not even know about it until it was too late to change it.

He was only snapped out of his thoughts by the arrival of the Section Chief. Ros Myers was on the warpath. If the expression on Harry’s face predicted storm, Ros’s delivered it. The temperature seemed to drop when she came in and favoured Merlin with her most icy stare. ‘What have you done?’ she demanded.

He had thrown his hands up in the air. ‘Nothing, I swear.’ Ugh, she even sounded like Arthur.

Her face told him she didn’t believe that. ‘Where the bloody hell are Lucas and Arthur?’

Harry’s orders had to been not to provide any of the team with information before they were all there, but Merlin didn’t feel like repeating this particular command to a furious Section Chief. And she was the last to come in anyway, which strictly speaking meant that they were all there. ‘Gone,’ he reported. ‘To Morgana.’

His report needed only those three words. Ros was easily capable of connecting the rest of the dots herself. ‘Bloody fool,’ she muttered under her breath. To Merlin’s surprise she seemed not the least bit mad. True, it would be much too much to ask that she admitted that she had been wrong about Lucas North, but he had at least expected that she would throw herself at the task at hand to try and stop him.

‘Harry asked you to go to the meeting room,’ Merlin told her.

Those green eyes now turned to him. With one single look she managed to convey all the contempt she felt for him. Merlin foolishly wondered if she held him responsible for what had happened. He knew he himself partly did. If he had managed to talk to Lucas earlier, if he had only left Jo’s house right away instead of granting her those ten minutes to change and grab a bite of breakfast, they might have been able to do something about this. By now he was convinced that the car they had seen leaving the car park when they had arrived must have had Lucas and Arthur in it, especially when a quick search of the car park  turned up Lucas’s own car still standing there. And Merlin could not for the life of him remember the number plate of the car they had passed. He had only gotten a fleeting glance of the vehicle itself and at the time he had not been particularly interested in its number plate and neither had Jo.

‘Did he indeed?’ Ros asked before stalking off.

Merlin followed her at a safe distance. He had no intention of being on the receiving end of her sharp tongue and something told him that despite all the evidence to the contrary she still did not believe in Lucas’s betrayal. He did not know why and he could not even begin to understand her motives, but he was fairly certain he did not really want to know them either.

Harry and Jo were exiting the office and now marched towards the meeting room as well. Or rather, Harry was marching while Jo was all but running along in his wake to keep up. Merlin thought it wiser to just get in the room as fast as he could and slide into his seat pretending not to notice all the questioning glances he received from the various team members. Jo took the seat next to him while Harry remained standing at the head of the table.

Everyone stared at him, but no one dared to ask Harry a question once he was in a full-blown fury, so they all waited until he spoke. The head of Section D took a deep breath. ‘I regret to have to inform you that, as of this moment, our former Senior Case Officer Lucas North is to be regarded as a rogue officer.’

The silence that followed this statement was deafening. Everyone stared at Harry. Malcolm appeared to be in a state of shock, Ben wasn’t much better and Ros was perfectly livid by the looks of it. Connie merely nodded, accepting the facts. Merlin didn’t know if he should admire or loathe her for it. On one hand it was a testimony to how good she was at her job to set all personal feelings aside and just do what needed to be done, on the other hand it was slightly frightening how indifferent she was about it all.

‘That’s bloody ridiculous.’ Ros of course was the first to speak up.

Harry ignored her. ‘He took Arthur Pendragon and has taken him to Morgana for his own ends. We believe him to be working for her.’

‘ _We_?’ Ros echoed. ‘Damn it, Harry, have you lost your bloody mind?’

The shocked looks around the room told Merlin that this was something she didn’t do every day. It wasn’t unlike Ros to be so outspoken about things, he had soon learned. But it was unlike her to be so outspoken to Harry. If she had a bone to pick with her boss she usually did that in the privacy of his office, where no one could hear them. This, outright questioning Harry’s judgement while the rest of the team was watching, that was new and there was something very unnerving about it too.

There was a barely concealed warning in Harry’s eyes, telling her to stop this here and now, but Ros either didn’t see it or ignored it. ‘Arthur probably proposed this himself. He wants Morgana as badly as we want her.’

‘And Lucas all too happily obliged,’ Harry finished. ‘Ros, I know you don’t want to believe this of him even less than I, but…’

‘What I want has nothing to do with it,’ Ros interjected dismissively. ‘Can’t you see what he is doing, Harry? He’s bloody well trying to prove to you that he’s still got what it takes to do this job and you just refuse to acknowledge that!’

‘He took Arthur Pendragon to his worst enemy,’ Harry pointed out. ‘I hardly call that the actions of a sane man.’

Ros ignored that. ‘Do you remember what happened to Adam after his wife died?’ she questioned.

Harry Pearce looked as if his Section Chief had just punched him in the face. Even though Merlin did not know what Ros was even talking about, he strongly suspected that this question had been below the belt.

‘This is no different.’ Ros’s voice was almost cajoling now. ‘Give him a chance to prove himself.’

But Harry had himself firmly under control again. ‘And when I let Adam go to the Thames Barrier back then both of you almost drowned. Even _if_ what you say is true, Ros, he’s still alone and he’s desperate. Our main priority has to be to find him, and Arthur, and to bring him in, whatever the cost.’

Merlin decided to jump in. ‘We’re wasting time here,’ he exclaimed. ‘Arthur could already be dead. Maybe you are right, Ros.’ He forced himself to say it, even as he almost choked on the words, but he had to stop her from delaying this any further. ‘But can’t we just find out after we’ve found them? Please?’ Now he was the one begging for understanding. He could not just sit back and do nothing while the man he had sworn to protect was in mortal danger. Whether Lucas was or was not a traitor, although Merlin still firmly believed in the first, that wasn’t really the matter now. All that did matter was that they found Arthur before Morgana got the chance to kill him off. Everything else could wait.

The Section Chief studied his face and then nodded. It was clear that she had a whole lot more to say, but thankfully she let it rest for now. Merlin and Jo used the opportunity to show the note Arthur had left for them and report the leaving of a black car from the car park at approximately a quarter past five. Jo recalled that she had only seen one person inside the car and stressed that it could not have been them, but she also told them that the coffee in the pot was still hot when they had arrived, leading her to believe that Lucas indeed had been the one in the car, which would lead automatically to the conclusion that Arthur most likely had been tied up in the boot of the car.

Ros, all her anger stored away behind the icy mask Merlin had almost become used to over the last couple of days, gave a curt, tentative nod and then took control. ‘All right. Malcolm, you get down to tracking that car. I don’t care what systems you think you need to hack into to find that vehicle, just do it. We’ll deal with the paperwork later. Ben, you assist him best you can. Get down to security and get them to hand over all security footage within half an hour frame of them leaving. Anything relevant you find, I want it on my desk asap. Connie and Jo, get back to Hogan’s file. Find me every possible hideout he might have. Think about property he owns, places with some emotional value, anything that he could be using as hiding place. Merlin, you and I are going to talk.’

He was not sure he liked the sound of this, but he nodded obediently. Protesting would only mean wasting even more time and that they could not have. So he followed the Section Chief as she strode from the meeting room back to her own desk. The rest of the team was already at their desks. Jo took the file on Hogan from Arthur’s desk and took it with her to where she was working with Connie. The absence of paper made the piece of furniture look almost organised. Harry had disappeared to his office, phone in hand.

‘What did you want to talk about?’ he asked.

‘Morgana,’ Ros replied curtly. ‘Tell me everything I need to know in order to get in her sodding head, everything that you know, even if you do not think it could possibly be relevant. We need to know how she thinks, how she acts and reacts.’

Merlin nodded thoughtfully. ‘I think I can do that.’

‘I should bloody well hope so,’ Ros grumbled. She reached for a notebook and a pen. ‘Merlin?’

He looked up, right into her eyes. ‘Yes?’

‘We may not agree on what has happened, but we do need to trust one another on this operation,’ she told him sternly. ‘I am not your enemy and I am not trying to endanger your sodding king on purpose. We are allies now and you should start acting like it.’

The warlock very much felt like pointing out that it took two people to get such an alliance going, but he decided against it. This was definitely not the time to start bickering amongst themselves. That would only make Morgana’s work easier. And so he nodded. ‘Understood.’

‘Very well,’ Ros agreed. ‘Tell me what you know.’

She reached for something on her desk. Merlin saw her freeze in mid-motion. All the blood drained from her face.

‘Are you all right?’ Merlin asked hesitantly. He feared she might just bite his head off for asking about something as personal as her wellbeing, but the Section Chief didn’t even seem to hear him. Her eyes were fixed on something on her desk. What exactly that was Merlin could not see – the desk was filled with papers and, although stacked far more neatly than the ones on Arthur’s desk – but it was obvious that Ros had been shaken to the core. ‘Ros?’

The calling of her name seemed to snap her out of her reverie. ‘Stay here,’ she commanded him. She got up, grabbed something that looked like two small plastic containers off her desk and marched over to Malcolm. Merlin could see her hand the objects to the technician and talk to him, but it was too far away to be able to make out what it was all about. What he had seen in that brief moment before she had gone was that determined look in her eyes. Something had somehow made her think of something and whatever that something was, it would help them find Arthur.

Ros was back before he knew it. ‘You, with me,’ she snapped. She grabbed something else off her desk and marched off without even watching if Merlin was following.

But this was hardly the time to start questioning her commands and so he obeyed. ‘Where are we going?’ he asked.

A grim smile lit up her face. ‘Harry’s office.’

It was only then that Merlin caught sight of the note she had picked up just now. There were only three words on it, written in a handwriting that seemed vaguely familiar to Merlin: _Colleagues are okay_.

 

***

 

Ros had known something was wrong the moment she had been red-flashed. Her first thought had been that Morgana had gone and blown up another number of people. That thought had made her keep up a sotto voce stream of curses as she dressed and drove down to Thames House at neck-break speed. She should have known that evil witch was up to something after having been thwarted just the afternoon before. Morgana struck her as the type to take her revenge immediately and from what Arthur and Merlin had already told her, she knew the daughter of Uther Pendragon didn’t shy away from murder or even mass murder to get her way.

But once arrived at the Grid she had learned that it was in fact Arthur’s stupidity coming into play. She respected the king, especially since he was with her when it came to Lucas, but he had not been particularly blessed with common sense. And from Lucas she had expected better too. Ros knew he was desperate, completely devastated after Harry had once again pulled him off the case. Lucas felt he needed to prove himself, but found himself hindered by the very man he was trying to prove himself too. He had accused Harry of double-crossing him, had come close to accuse Harry of betraying him. And Ros understood. Good grief, she probably understood this better than anyone. It did however not mean that she condoned his actions.

With the entire team believing Lucas was a traitor, a rogue officer even, her protests had fallen on deaf ears and now she was about to track down her best officer to bring him in for interrogation. Understanding Lucas as she did she knew that the thought of being locked up again after spending so many years in prison would frighten him more than anything. And she hated what she had to do now, but in this respect Merlin was right: every minute they wasted here would lessen the chance of Arthur still being alive.

And the king of Camelot was, in a way, one of their own now and Section D looked after their own, not to mention that Morgana and Hogan would certainly try and wreak more havoc on Britain. This was not just about saving one of their own people, it was a question of national security as well. And Ros didn’t even want to imagine the reactions of Richard Dolby and the Home Secretary when they learned they had accidentally lost the Once and Future King to the most dangerous witch mankind had ever known. She had a feeling both men would need an ambulance after such news.

‘We may not agree on what has happened, but we do need to trust one another on this operation,’ she therefore told Merlin when they reached her desk and she had ordered him to tell her everything he knew about the woman they were hunting. ‘I am not your enemy and I am not trying to endanger your sodding king on purpose. We are allies now and you should start acting like it.’ She still didn’t like Merlin, but right now they shared a common goal: finding Arthur and stopping Morgana. It wouldn’t do to alienate the warlock now.

Merlin seemed to realise this. ‘Understood,’ he nodded.

‘Very well,’ Ros said, reaching for another pen when she found the one she had taken had run out of ink. ‘Tell me what you know.’

Merlin had already opened his mouth to comply with that command when she froze. Her hand was still hovering over her desk to pick up the pen she knew was lying there, but her eyes had caught sight of something else entirely. On the keyboard of her computer lay a note. Ros could hardly believe that she had not seen it before now. It was placed so that it should be the first thing you saw when you passed this desk.

The handwriting was Lucas’s beyond the shadow of a doubt. It had been scribbled down, possibly because he was in a hurry, and there were only three words on it: _Colleagues are okay._

Everyone who knew her would immediately agree that Ros Myers was the last person to ever freeze into place when she had been shocked. Good heavens, she didn’t exactly shock easily either.

He had left a message, a clue for them, telling them he was still on their side, but he had phrased it so that only Ros would be able to understand the full meaning. _Lovers leave, friends annoy you and families mess with your head, but colleagues are okay._ Lucas, so like Ros herself, had no one else in the world but his colleagues. This one simple note made her realise that he would not give up on the last people he had in the world. It was something Ros could understand only too well.

She could hear Merlin’s voice ask about her wellbeing and in normal situations she would have snapped at him for asking about things that were none of his business, but today she had other and more important things on her mind. There, next to the first note, lay a second, positioned on two of those small plastic boxes that usually contained Malcolm’s precious tracking devices. One look taught her that both of them were empty. _Find us_ , the note said.

It almost made her smile. Lucas had only given himself a head start. He had left them a way to track them down and come to their aid. The last remnants of doubt about her colleague’s loyalties that had assaulted Ros’s mind ever since hearing what had happened went right down the drain. This, this was a declaration of loyalty, a plea for trust and a cry for help all at the same time and she’d be damned if she let that go unanswered.

‘Ros?’ Merlin’s voice, hesitantly though it may be, interrupted her thoughts.

It brought her back to the here and now. She fixed Merlin with as angry a stare as she could manage for asking if she was fine – it was an unspoken rule that no one ever did that – and then told him to stay put.

His confused look told her he had no idea what was going on, but Rod did not care about that. She got to her feet, grabbed the boxes and walked as fast as she could without breaking into a run to Malcolm’s desk.

‘Malcolm,’ she greeted, more to get his attention than out of the urge to be polite. That wasn’t in her job description after all and she had better things to do than waste her time on social niceties.

The technician looked up from whatever it was that he had been doing. ‘Ros?’

She put the boxes in front of him. ‘Can you track the devices that were in here?’ she demanded.

Malcolm picked them up and studied them carefully. ‘If I can find…’ he began.

But Ros didn’t have time for that today. ‘Malcolm, I’m sure it’s fascinating, but I am not bloody interested in hearing _how_ you do it. _Can_ you do it?’

To her relief he nodded. ‘Give me ten minutes.’

‘Then do it,’ Ros ordered. She knew she was snappy, but she could not care less. Merlin was at least right about one thing: Arthur was in danger. But he had missed out on another thing: Lucas could be in just as much danger as his precious king. ‘And do it now.’

Malcolm frowned at her. ‘What about tracking the car?’

‘Forget the car,’ Ros told him. ‘These things will lead us straight to them.’

Malcolm’s eyes widened. ‘Ros, are you sure?’

She nodded and then decided to do something she wasn’t often known to be doing: she laid a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. ‘Lucas is not a rogue officer, Malcolm. He left these for us.’

The Section Chief was aware that Lucas and Malcolm had been friends before the former’s imprisonment even. They were close and it must have hurt the technician enormously to see his friend go through Traitor’s Gate. The realisation that he had not brought back a hesitant smile to his face. ‘I’ll find them,’ he promised Ros.

‘You’d better,’ she told them. ‘I’ll still have to tell Harry.’ And if she sent them all on a wild goose chase he was bound to get from one burst of temper to the next. ‘Come and find me as soon as you’ve got something.’

She left him with that, walked back to her desk, beckoned Merlin to come with her and made directly for Harry’s office. Her boss was having a conversation with someone on the phone and by the looks of things, it didn’t go exactly according to plan. The door was shut, but Ros had never let her stop that from entering before.

‘Shouldn’t we knock?’ Merlin asked doubtfully.

‘Waste of time,’ Ros said dismissively, before opening and ushering the warlock inside. She shut the door behind them.

Harry had just wrapped up his argument over the phone and sent her a stern look from over his desk. ‘The fact that we are in the middle of a crisis does not mean you don’t have to knock anymore, Rosalind.’

Ros ignored that. ‘Anything on your end?’ she asked, certainly not that sure about how to broach this delicate subject. She’d rather have results to back her story up. All she had were two notes and her own intuition and last she checked, the Service didn’t make its decisions based on the Section Chief’s intuition, no matter how reliable that intuition was.

Harry snorted. ‘Ruffled feathers over at Grosvenor Square. Someone should have told Arthur that threatening the bloody Americans into cooperating doesn’t always work.’

Ros shrugged. ‘It got us the file.’ In her opinion one didn’t need more reasons to threaten the cousins. ‘Anything else?’

Harry leaned back into his chair, suddenly looking exhausted.  He shook his head. ‘This is my I-need-some-good-news-face, Ros. Please tell me you’ve found something.’

She could see that Lucas’s supposed betrayal had hurt him deeply, even if he hadn’t shown it in front of the rest of the team. They had been close, Lucas and Harry, and to find that Lucas had betrayed them all must have been very bitter for the head of Section D indeed. He would want to hear her news and so she nodded. ‘I think we might have a lead on their whereabouts. Malcolm is following up on it now.’

Harry’s sigh of relief was clearly audible.

Ros agreed with him completely. _Now for the hardest part_. ‘Lucas is not a rogue officer, Harry.’

The irritation returned to Harry’s face in the blink of an eye. ‘Ros, we have been over this before. This is _not_ the time…’

But Ros interrupted him. She shoved the first note under his nose. ‘He left this on my desk before he left.’

The unexpected move stopped Harry dead in his tracks. ‘Colleagues are okay?’

‘Something we discussed a few days ago,’ Ros explained. It felt a little too private to talk about it this with anyone really, but if sharing it would convince Harry to accept the facts, then that was what she must do. ‘Lovers leave, friends annoy you and families mess with your head, but colleagues are okay, all of them,’ she summarised.

‘Ros, Lucas is a very skilled and resourceful operative,’ Harry reminded her. ‘He could be playing you, knowing how strongly you feel about being loyal to your team.’

The irritation very nearly started to boil over. ‘This has nothing to do with playing games,’ she snarled. She handed him the second note. ‘This was attached to two small plastic containers, the ones Malcolm keeps his tracking devices in. He’s tracing them now.’

Harry just stared at her, mouth slightly open, temporarily lost for words. Unfortunately Merlin wasn’t. The warlock had been listening silently so far, but now he spoke up. ‘You mean to say that Lucas is not a traitor?’

‘He’s not,’ Ros said decisively.

Merlin obviously disagreed. ‘He has taken Arthur to Morgana,’ he pointed out.

‘At Arthur’s own request,’ Ros countered. ‘And Lucas was desperate to prove himself. He wasn’t going to say no. Maybe you should have done a better job of instilling some better sense of bloody self-preservation into your king before you start blaming the people that are trying to help you. Speaking of which, you haven’t exactly been too useful the last couple of days.’ She had been dying to say that ever since the warlock first started uttering his distrust all over the Grid.

Merlin might have lost his temper too, had not Malcolm come in and saved her from him and quite possibly from herself as well. ‘Ros, I’ve found it,’ he announced.

‘Knock, Malcolm,’ Harry reminded the technician wearily.

As was custom on the Grid, this was ignored. ‘May I?’ Malcolm glanced at Harry’s computer.

The head of Section D got up. ‘Take my chair as well, why don’t you?’ he muttered.

Malcolm took both the chair and the computer and let his fingers fly over the keys. Ros doubted he had even heard Harry’s sarcastic comment at all. As soon as it involved technology, Malcolm was in heaven and he neither saw nor heard anything that was not in some way related to his job until he was done.

‘Where are they, Malcolm?’ Ros asked, leaning over the desk to get a better view.

‘Close to where you said that portal was,’ he replied, eyes never once leaving the screen that was now zooming in on the area of the village. ‘Now, assuming that they each have one tracker on them, they’re still together.’

‘Alive?’ Merlin’s voice was more anxious than anything else.

Malcolm shrugged. ‘We can’t be sure. But they are both still moving. It might indicate that they’re still alive.’

It might also mean that someone dragged their dead bodies around, but Ros thought it wiser not to point out that possibility. Merlin was already on edge.

The screen zoomed in till they got a relatively clear visual of the roof of what seemed a great barn in the middle of the fields that surrounded the small village. In the far left corner Ros could see the beginning of the patch of forest. ‘I know where that is,’ she told them. ‘We practically walked past it when we went to investigate.’ Relief washed over her now that she had something to go on. The anxiety wasn’t all gone. It would not be gone until this operation had been concluded, she knew that.

Merlin nodded thoughtfully. ‘Large wooden barn on the left side of the path? Looked like it was about to fall apart in the first storm?’

He at least didn’t seem to feel the need to argue Lucas’s loyalties anymore and for that Ros was grateful. She didn’t really mean what she had said about him being useless. When Arthur was not involved he was clever, resourceful  and as sharp as a razor. Had he been anyone else than who he was – and had he not been so quick to distrust his new colleagues, Ros added to herself – she would have loved to have him on the team.

She nodded. ‘That’s the one. Harry…’

Her intended request for the cavalry was interrupted by Jo’s arrival. The junior officer came running into the office, clutching a stack of papers to her chest. ‘Ros, I think we’ve found something.’

‘What would that be, if I may ask? A gold mine under Whitehall?’ Harry demanded. ‘Out with it!’ Ros gave a curt nod, signalling Jo to continue.

‘Eight months ago Hogan bought a piece of land,’ she reported. ‘We initially missed out on it, because the CIA edited it out of the first version of the file we got. Apparently he tried to keep it under wraps, because he bought it under a false name, but the CIA found it when they did their own little digging into his activities after the bombing.’

Harry’s patience was starting to run out rapidly. ‘Jo, where is this piece of land?’

The junior officer bit her lip, clearly nervous. ‘Very near the portal. In fact, the portal is technically on his land.’

‘As is the barn,’ Ros muttered. ‘And if the Americans have found out about it, they may very well be crawling all over the place already.’

Harry’s face was positively murderous. ‘They won’t after I’m through with them,’ he promised. This was his I’ve-made-a-decision-and-I’m-sticking-with-it-so-it-is-non-negotiable-face. ‘Ros, scramble CO19 and tell them to hurry. We’re going to bring them home.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is everything I have written so far. From now on updates will be every Saturday. And if you could spare a minute, I'd love to hear what you think about the story so far.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

 

‘I’m going to enjoy killing you, Arthur Pendragon.’ Morgana’s voice was as cold as any of Lucas’s interrogators’ had ever been and it made him shiver. ‘Not even Emrys can save you now.’

No, Emrys might not be of use now, but that did not mean that Arthur Pendragon was without help. Lucas was still standing behind the king, restraining him. He could feel him tremble, but he was more or less convinced this was due to the aftereffects of the drug he had given him than because of fear. A lot could be said about the king of Camelot, but he was not a coward. He did not fear death. He looked it right in the eye and Lucas could see that this was somehow unnerving Morgana.

‘Not so quick,’ he heard himself say.

Morgana looked at him. ‘I didn’t think you’d be so attached to him, Lucas,’ she remarked, the malice obvious in her voice.

Lucas snorted. ‘Oh, I am not,’ he lied easily. ‘But it would be a mistake to dispose of him so soon already. He spent a considerable amount of time on the Grid, especially in Harry Pearce’s office. With a little… persuasion he might be convinced to part with his secrets.’ The very idea of proposing torture made him sick to his stomach. He would not wish for his ordeal to be inflicted on anyone, but it might buy him some time yet.

He tried to think of how long it would take his colleagues to realise what he had done. Merlin and Jo had arrived at Thames House just as he was exiting the car park, he knew. Neither of them seemed to have recognised him, but that didn’t really matter. As soon as they were on the Grid they would realise that Arthur was gone and it would be all too easy to connect the dots and conclude what had happened, especially if Merlin was involved. The warlock was as suspicious as any spook Lucas had ever encountered. He might even put Ros to shame in that department. So, as soon as they had discovered that Arthur was missing, Jo would have had the good sense to red-flash the team. In a situation that was so serious they would all be on the Grid in no time, have a briefing and then Ros would send them all to do whatever it took to find them. With a bit of luck she would go to her own desk first. At any rate she must have found his notes by now. They could already be on their way. He just needed to play for a little more time.

At first he had been unhappy with the idea of Section D on their trails so soon already, but now it was a blessing. Lucas realised he had underestimated Morgana’s hatred of her brother. He, the spook that he was, had assumed she would want to question him first about some things she wanted and needed to know. And if she didn’t want that, she would humiliate him first, to make it perfectly clear who had won in the end.

At first things seemed to go according to plan. Morgana was practically gloating over her victory, congratulating herself. Lucas had seen it often enough to recognise it for what it was. His interrogators in Russia had always been very pleased with themselves too, rubbing his nose in the fact that he seemed to be stuck with their fabled hospitality for the rest of his life, constantly reminding him that Harry didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get him back, that no help was coming, so that he could better start telling his secrets. Morgana too could not resist the urge to rub her victim’s nose in his defeat, her victory. There was a vicious gleam in her eyes when she did that.

And it reminded Lucas of why he could never really go over to her side. Yes, he pitied her, in more ways than one. Some part of him really wanted to join her, aid her, but mostly aid himself.

They were very much alike too. Both of them had suffered as the result of actions from people they had trusted, they had cared about. He knew Ros had told him that Harry had ‘sweated blood’ to get him back to England, but the fact remained that it had still taken him eight solid years to get it done. Even then he had only been released because of a spy swap. Apparently that was the best plan his boss had been able to come up with. Morgana too knew what it was to be an outsider, to be regarded with distrust because of something she didn’t have any control over. It was a hard life.

But in this they were also vastly different. Morgana had chosen to retaliate against those that had harmed her, lashing out at everybody to create a place for herself, to give her life meaning. Lucas on the other hand clung to the things he still had left, trying to do his best to prove that he still was a part of Section D, because it was all that he had left, all that still made sense to him after Russia.

And he knew now that he could never be like Morgana. She may have some hidden weaknesses and when it came to trusting people she was vulnerable. But she was also cruel and downright ruthless in pursuing her goals. She seemed to be lacking something like a conscience. Morgana was very selfish, he had come to learn. In her eyes the world revolved around Morgana, or it should anyway. Other people did not matter. If they did, she would have fought harder to hang on to her friends. No, everyone was disposable, replaceable to her. Hogan was probably already on the way out and Lucas had no doubt that, had he indeed chosen to remain at Morgana’s side, he too would over time have outlived his usefulness and then she would leave him out in the cold. If she didn’t kill him first. And Lucas had come to the conclusion that he was not yet ready to leave this world behind.

‘He has no secrets that could be of any use to me.’ Morgana discarded the idea without even stopping and thinking. ‘He can take them with him to the grave if he so chooses. They are nothing to me.’

The words made Lucas almost shiver again. This conversation was not at all going where he wanted it to. ‘But I think they are something to Hogan and me, my lady,’ the Senior Case Officer reminded his supposed accomplice. ‘It would only be fair to let us have what we want as well, would you not agree?’

The king froze. Lucas could feel Arthur’s muscles tense under his hands, clearly anticipating a fight. He didn’t think the man was a stranger to the practise of torture in order to learn the enemy’s plans. He lived in a far darker time, where death was more present than it was in the world today. But he could also tell that Arthur was not going to sit back and wait for them to have their way with him. He wasn’t the type to go down without a proper fight.

Arthur doubted him. Lucas had seen it in his eyes as he had hauled him from the boot of the car. And he could not really blame him for losing faith, even if the distrust did hurt. The king had been drugged, tied up and then handed over to his worst enemy, all done by a man he had until very recently trusted with his life. And Lucas knew he was a good actor. He knew how to make it believable. As well as that worked with Morgana, it must be frightening for Arthur, not knowing if he even still had an ally. And it was even worse for him, because Lucas had not informed him that he had left the team with the means to track them down before Morgana could do her worst.

‘Traitor!’ came the low hiss. The tone was downright venomous; Arthur had poured all the loathing he felt into that one word.

Lucas tried not to let it show how much this hurt him. It was like a blow to the face. ‘Yeah, well, you really should learn to be a little less trusting in future,’ he sneered at the king.

‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ Arthur growled.

The next moment Lucas doubled over with pain. He had underestimated his captive. Arthur may be far too trusting for his own good and he was still weak from the drug, but he was by no means defeated. He was fighting back. And Lucas was paying for this mistake with a burning pain in his belly where the king had rammed his elbow in it.

Arthur, who must have been slipping the rope off his wrists while the other occupants of the room were still too busy bickering amongst themselves, did not make a beeline for the door, as any other would have done. No, the king of Camelot had not yet given up on his mission to catch Morgana. If Lucas was not already moaning with the pain, he would have done it for the king’s stupidity. Arthur ran straight for Morgana.

The witch had not anticipated this and Arthur had her pressed against a wall, his hand tightly around her throat, before she even knew what was happening.

‘Give me one good excuse,’ he growled at his half-sister. It was creepy to say the least. Lucas had become used to the good-humoured man, not this fearsome enemy. ‘Give me one good excuse why I should not kill you on the spot, Morgana.’

The witch did not even seem very impressed with his threatening. ‘Oh, dear brother, you have not learned your lesson at all, have you?’

By now Lucas had gotten to his feet again, but he stayed back. While this was not what he had in mind when he had agreed to Arthur’s plan, he would be lying if he said he disapproved of the turn of events. True, it would be preferable if they could bring Morgana in and lock her away for the rest of her life, but he had learned enough about her to know that this would never work. She could simply magic her way out of any prison. Cells could never hold her. And while killing suspects wasn’t normally in his job description, the job sometimes asked for it.

Bob Hogan was less enthusiastic about this development. Lucas did not think he was unaware of the fact that he was rapidly losing Morgana’s favour, but the American still believed she could be useful to him. After all, magic was a very rare gift. It was unlikely he would ever find such a powerful ally again if she died.

‘Let her go,’ he growled at Arthur. He made to move towards the siblings, but Arthur’s icy stare stopped him.

‘I’ll kill her before you can get to her.’ It was not even a threat. Arthur delivered the line with the certainty of someone who knew he could make good on what he said. This was the warrior speaking, the leader, the man that led others into bloody battles and came out without as much as a scratch to show for it.

‘You’re not as different from Uther at all, are you, Arthur Pendragon?’ Morgana smirked. ‘You may think so, but when it comes down to it you are executing people with magic just as your father did.’

Arthur looked her right in the eye. ‘I have only ever executed those who used their magic to attack Camelot, as I would any other common criminal. I have never actively persecuted those who possess your gifts. I am not my father, Morgana.’ His voice was cold, but Lucas could also hear regret. Whatever had passed between these two, there had to be more than he had heard. ‘Unlike you. Do you remember when you shot the town’s people when the knights refused to swear their allegiance to you or when you burned the farmers’ crops because they did not love you?’ Arthur was more angry now than anything else. He felt strongly about this, Lucas decided. Yes, there was anger there, but it was mostly frustration that he could not get Morgana to see his point. Arthur Pendragon may want to put an end to Morgana’s attacks, but he had not yet crossed that line to really hate her, not entirely.

Morgana smirked. ‘Look at you,’ she said, sending him a disgusted look to go with it. ‘You are such a hypocrite, brother. You dare accuse me of slaughtering innocent people when you yourself stood by and did nothing while Uther slaughtered my kind?’

For one who was so close to death, she was remarkably calm and this was what set Lucas’s alarm bells off right away. Morgana was not the type to face death calmly. She was a murderer herself, but she clung to her own life. She would not be willing to lay it down. She would be begging for it if the situation asked for it. That she wasn’t doing so now made it all too clear to the spook that she still had some tricks up her sleeve. This woman was not yet defeated.

‘Arthur,’ he said softly, a warning edge to his voice. ‘Careful.’

Arthur sent him a look of the utmost contempt. ‘Don’t you dare come any closer. I’ll kill her.’

Lucas weighed the chances of needing to slip back behind the mask of Morgana’s accomplice and found them slim to none. And this whole traitor business had dragged on for far too long. It was time to reveal his true colours. He shrugged. ‘Be my guest. The world would be well rid of her.’

Morgana’s cold eyes now settled on him, as did Hogan’s. They seemed to have realised the same thing right away, even if it was Hogan who did the talking. ‘You’re one of Harry’s,’ he spat.

And he was. He knew that, had somewhere deep down known that all the time. But to hear it confirmed, even if only by his enemy, made him feel strong and confident. ‘Did you really think I stayed loyal to my country after eight years of being tortured by the Russians only to betray it within an hour after first meeting you?’ he questioned. He scowled at Hogan. ‘I did not betray MI-5, not even once. Everything I did, everything I told you, it was all carefully planned. And you bought it.’ The adrenaline had kicked in now. It was a dangerous thing, because it usually also gave him the false sense of being invincible and he knew he was anything but that. But it felt so good to finally throw off the mask and reveal who he really was.

Hogan’s eyes had narrowed and he even managed to conjure up a smile. ‘That little… display in the park yesterday, that was not faked,’ he told Lucas. ‘Harry did lie to you, didn’t he? Because he did not know what you were planning. You don’t even know it yourself, do you, North? You were betraying MI-5 and now you are not, because the chances have turned and you do not want to get yourself killed.’

But Lucas was long past any fear of death. In the worst moments in prison he had even sought it out. And he had no fear for this pathetic man either. ‘I could not betray MI-5,’ he told him with all the loathing he could muster. ‘Because I am MI-5.’ He remembered telling Elizabeta the same thing not so long ago and it still held true. He had given his life to the Service. It had become who he was, not only what he did to make a living. His whole identity was based on it. It had taken eight years in prison to fully realise this, but he knew now. Being a spook was the only thing he knew how to do, the only thing that made sense, that meant something. ‘I was MI-5 all those years in prison, I was MI-5 when I came back and I am MI-5 still. You, however, are nothing at all, Bob Hogan. You lost your job, your comfortable retirement and in only a few minutes time you will lose your freedom as well. My colleagues are already on their way. They know where we went.’ This was bending the truth, but only a little. He had no idea where his colleagues were, but by now they would be onto them, of this he was certain.

‘You’re bluffing, North.’ The smirk on the former CIA officer’s face told him he did not buy a single word of that speech.

More fool him. It was as if someone out there had heard  him. In the distance he could hear the sounds of racing cars coming ever closer. Normally he guessed this was a deserted area. The barn had not been used in years and the road that led here had been in disuse for years, he could tell. It was all but overgrown with grass and no tire prints were showing in it. No, there could only be one single reason why so many cars – Lucas guessed there to be around at least ten of them – were speeding towards this corner of civilisation and that was because Ros had found the message and had gotten Malcolm to get the tracking devices to work.

He felt his self-confidence grow. Ros had believed in him and now they were closer to bringing this operation to a successful conclusion than they had ever been. Colleagues really were okay.

He saw Hogan reach for his gun, but Lucas was quicker. He hadn’t been so stupid as to leave Thames House without proper means of protecting himself and he was a lot quicker and more trained than Hogan, who had spent the last years of his career mainly behind a desk. This really wasn’t a contest. The American found himself staring at the wrong end of Lucas’s gun before he could even begin to think about getting his own.

Lucas found himself smiling that triumphant smile that Merlin used to think of as creepy. Arthur still had his hands at Morgana’s throat and Lucas had Hogan neutralised. ‘Don’t even think about making a wrong move, Hogan,’ he warned the other spy. ‘It’s over.’

 

***

 

The Grid had become more active than a bee colony in high summer after Harry’s orders. Ros was on the phone, as was Harry. Malcolm had disappeared behind his computers screens again, calling Ben over to help him with whatever it was that he was doing. Connie and Jo were still going over Hogan’s file to see what else they could get from it. And Merlin, Merlin stood in the middle of it all wondering how this was helping them to get to Arthur before Morgana could finish him off. Once again he found himself wishing he had spent more time practising that magical whirlwind teleportation. If he had mastered that, they could be there already, putting an end to this living nightmare.

While the note on Ros’s desk seemed to have brought about a change in how everyone viewed Lucas’s behaviour, Merlin’s remained rather unchanged. In the situation they were in now, it didn’t really matter why Lucas had taken Arthur. All that mattered was that he had. If the spook was indeed still on their side, then he had just made a grave error of judgement: he had underestimated Morgana. There was just no way two men could take on the most powerful witch the world had ever known or would ever know.

The warlock found Ros’s tale hard to believe anyway. Yes, it was strange that Lucas had left them those trackers, but his other actions all pointed towards treason. Harry himself had pointed out that Lucas was a skilled and resourceful man, who knew how to play this game. But, as he had told Ros, they would hopefully have the time to discuss that later, when all this was over and Arthur would be safely back with them.

He was snapped out of his musings by Harry, whose loudest bellowing called both Merlin and Ros to come with him. Merlin all but ran over, while the Section Chief took a few more seconds to wrap up the conversation she was having before she too joined them.

‘We’re joining the cavalry?’ she assumed as they emerged from the pods outside the Grid.

Harry nodded. ‘They’re on their way already.’

‘Good. Any news on whether the Americans are anywhere near that barn?’

‘Nothing confirmed,’ Harry reported as they walked into the car park. ‘But they’ll be there whether we see them or not. And they are not going to be there for much longer.’

Merlin frowned. ‘Wouldn’t they be able to help us in getting Arthur out?’ he questioned. ‘If they are already in place…’

‘More chance that they shoot everyone inside and only later realise that not all of them were terrorists,’ Ros replied sarcastically. ‘Better safe than sorry and that kind of crap.’ The idea that Ros was not very fond of the Americans, something he had started to realise over the last couple of days, presented itself to the warlock. Come to think of it, no one on the Grid seemed to be particularly fond of them.

‘And even if they manage to not accidentally shoot our own people, they’ll lock them up and we’ll never see them again,’ Harry added, digging up his mobile phone while he slid into the passenger seat.

Merlin took the backseat, while Ros took the wheel. Merlin was less than happy with the prospect of being in a car that was being driven by Ros Myers. He had had that experience only once before, when he had gone to meet Marlin with Lucas and her the first time, and he had come out of the vehicle wanting to throw up. Lucas was a better driver in that respect and right now, that might even be the only thing the warlock trusted him with. Ros, when it came to cars, he did not.

He was reminded of why he thought that in the first place when Ros drove the car at full speed out of the car park. Merlin really wanted to reach Arthur in time, but he preferred to do that while he was still in one piece and not squashed against a building or something equally life-threatening.

Harry didn’t seem to have a problem with Ros’s driving skills. He had dug up his mobile and was now ringing someone again. Merlin could hear it all well, since the head of Section D had turned the phone to the loudspeaker, allowing Ros and Merlin to listen to the conversation as well.

Someone on the other end picked up. ‘Werner.’

‘Laurie,’ Harry greeted curtly. ‘You know that barn you did not want MI-5 to know about? The one Hogan bought eight months ago?’ He didn’t wait for an answer, possibly because he already knew that this other person was aware of the barn’s existence. ‘Well, we’re on our way there and if I spot as much as one American face within a three mile radius of the place, your involvement in that bombing will be all over the news tomorrow.’

So it must be the CIA Harry was currently calling. Merlin recalled Arthur telling him about the woman he was supposed to be liaising with, someone called Laurie. He also remembered that Arthur was not particularly pleased with her.

There was some noise on the other end that might be described as the sound of someone sputtering and all but choking on their own words. ‘Are you threatening me?’ came the indignant reply in the end and Merlin could not help but notice that the woman did not deny that she had people near the barn. And if the angry scowl on Ros’s face was anything to go by, she had not missed out on that either.

Harry at least was less than impressed. ‘Just a fair warning,’ he told the woman. ‘So get your people out of there before my people arrive.’ He hung up on her before she had the chance to react.

Ros’s nod of approval told Merlin that she thought this was the best way to deal with CIA people. The little Merlin had learned about them made him agree with her wholeheartedly. ‘Do you think she’ll listen?’ Merlin asked. ‘She didn’t sound like the type to obey without protesting.’

‘She will if she doesn’t want to damage her country’s image,’ Ros told the warlock. ‘I know her and her ilk. They’re all the same.’

Merlin supposed she would know what she was talking about, so he let it be. Instead he opted on looking out of the window as they raced towards the village. Ros didn’t believe in the benefits of speed limits and she was not holding back now. The warlock wondered how fast they were going. He was pretty sure no horse could ever run this fast.

But apparently it was not yet fast enough for the head of Section D. ‘Can’t you speed this thing up a bit more, Rosalind?’ It occurred to Merlin that he was mainly worried about Lucas and not about Arthur. Jo had told him that Harry and Lucas had some unresolved issues concerning Lucas’s imprisonment, so maybe the section’s boss now wanted to prevent such a thing from ever happening again. It made sense to the warlock.

Ros sent him a glare. ‘I can’t make it fly.’

They were already out of the city and close to the village when Harry’s mobile started to produce some noise. The head of Section D glared at it and then answered it with a curt ‘Pearce.’

‘What do you think you’re doing, Harry?’ The voice sounded somewhat familiar to Merlin. It took him a few seconds to remember the face that belonged to it and then realised that it was the spooks’ boss, an elderly man by the name of Richard Dolby. He had come onto the Grid after the Al-Qaeda bombings, shouting insult at Harry and Ros. It had been audible all over the place, so even when Merlin hadn’t spoken to him personally, he still knew what he sounded like.

‘Please enlighten me, Richard,’ Harry said pleasantly. ‘Since I have no clue as to what you’re talking about right now.’

‘I just get a phone call telling me that you are calling out the heavy cavalry to do God knows what!’ came the angry voice, not in the very least pacified by Harry’s calm tone. ‘Would you like to offer me some explanation for this, sir Harry?’

Merlin couldn’t help but wonder at the mention of the title, but he decided to just let it go. There would be another time to ask about such things, but it was not now. Although the warlock had to admit that he had never seen anyone who was so little like a knight as the elderly spook.

‘This so happens to be a part of my job description.’ Harry was not in the very least impressed by the demanding tone of his superior. ‘It must be somewhere in all that paperwork that I do have the right to use the cavalry in hostage situations.’

‘ _Hostage situations_?’ Dolby’s disbelieving reply filled the car. ‘Harry, I have no idea what you have done this time, but I do not feel I can allow you to call them out for an as of yet still unspecified mission.’

Speaking of the cavalry, Merlin could see other cars now that also didn’t believe in speed limits and he hoped and prayed that they indeed were the promised back-up. He knew that his magic would be of great use in taking down Morgana and her accomplice, but a little extra help had never hurt anyone and he found it reassured him, even as the thought of fighting Morgana again made him want to throw up with the nerves.

Harry’s calm was lost as he snapped at Dolby. ‘And I do not feel I can let the most dangerous witch in the history of mankind get away with mass murder. We do have a credible lead on her whereabouts and right now she is also holding two of my officers captive.’

It surprised Merlin that Harry thought of Arthur as one of his officers, but he did not feel the need to comment on it, or blame him for it. Harry was fiercely protective of his own people and Arthur could only benefit from that.

‘The Service doesn’t do full-scale rescue missions for its own officers,’ Dolby fumed.

‘It does when one of the officers is called Arthur Pendragon,’ Harry countered. ‘And now, if you don’t mind, I’m rather busy. Innocent lives to save and so forth. I’m sure you’ll understand.’ He hung up without another word.

Ros drove the car over the bumpy road – or maybe path was a better word, taken into account that it didn’t seem to be used very often – at a speed that had Merlin want to vomit again, this time because of the nausea that her driving skills induced. But they were nearing their destination. Merlin could see the barn where Arthur must be in. He could only hope that they were still in time.

The Section Chief parked the car, but Merlin was already out and running before the motor was even turned off. He could hear Harry’s shout to wait for the back-up, but he had waited for far too long already. And the back-up was right at his heels anyway. He could hear their footsteps behind him.

And he could hear something else as well. ‘Don’t even think about making a wrong move, Hogan. It’s over.’ The realisation that it was Lucas’s voice saying these words, in exactly the same tone as when he had spoken to Marlin, that almost made Merlin stop dead in his tracks. Ros had been right.

But the consequences of that realisation would be something for another time as well. Right now he had a rescue mission to get on with. He had heard Lucas, but Arthur was never mentioned and neither had he spoken himself. It was enough to make Merlin increase his pace.

He wasn’t much of a runner, but Ros was. She caught up with him some metres away from the door, gun in hand. ‘Let me,’ she said.

Merlin was about to ask what he was supposed to be letting her do, when she answered that question by way of kicking the door off its hinges, providing them with an entrance. ‘Drop your weapon!’ she snarled.

Lucas sent her a confused look. The spook had his gun pointed at a furious looking Hogan, who stood a few paces away from him. The look in his eyes made it all too clear that he knew he was defeated. It also told them that he wasn’t planning on going down without a proper fight.

‘Not you, you bloody idiot,’ Ros snapped at her colleague.

But right now Merlin could not care less about Hogan and Lucas. It was Arthur that worried him. His eyes searched the dusty barn, finding his king, very much alive, with his hands around Morgana’s throat. Morgana’s back was pressed against the wall and she must have difficulty breathing, but nonetheless she smiled. And that was the very reason why the warlock’s alarm bells went off, all at once.

‘Arthur, get away from her!’ he shouted.

Arthur’s head swivelled in his direction, the last thing he should have been doing. The moment he took his eyes off Morgana, the witch’s eyes flared brilliant gold, sending Arthur flying backwards, making him crash right into Lucas, who had not seen the king coming and was slammed against the ground with him.

Merlin conjured up a shield to prevent himself from the effects of Morgana’s next spell, that rendered most of the back-up unconscious before they had even the chance to do something. At least he hoped they were just unconscious. Morgana wasn’t known for being merciful after all.

Ros, who stood behind him, and three of the other men in black clothing were the only ones that had escaped the spell. ‘ _Shit_!’ Ros cursed. She shot at Morgana, who casually deflected the bullet with a flick of her wrist and sent Ros flying against the nearest wall in the same go. The Section Chief groaned as she collided with the wall, but she appeared to be all right.

‘You’ve lost, Morgana,’ Merlin told her. ‘There is more help coming.’

Her cold green eyes now settled on him. A shiver went down Merlin’s spine. Those eyes had once been so full of light, glowing with laughter or the passionate spark when she embarked on her next crusade. Now there was just hatred and loathing to be found there. The old Morgana was gone entirely.

‘How could you, Merlin?’ she demanded. Her voice was harsh and unforgiving, but there was a genuine vulnerability there as well, a small hint of the woman he had once known. ‘You were the only one who really understood what I was going through, the only one I trusted. Yet you lied to me.’

‘I had to.’ The words sounded forced, even to his own ears. Heaven knew he had wanted to tell Morgana about his own magic. He had wanted it so badly. But both Gaius and the Great Dragon had advised against it and in the end he had listened to them. Now he wished that he had not. Now he desperately wished he had ignored them and told Morgana all about him and his own powers. If she had had a friend, a confident, one of her own kind, she would never have needed to turn to Morgause and she would never have become this evil witch that now stood in front of him.

‘You had a choice, Merlin,’ she snarled. ‘That tells me all I need to know about you.’

‘You have a choice too.’ He was trying not to sound too pleading. He really did not want to kill her, but the way things were now, she did not leave him a choice. He could just not risk her killing more innocent people. The station bombing pictures appeared before his mind’s eye. He could not allow anything like that to ever happen again. It was just too terrible. ‘Stop this, Morgana. _Please_. It doesn’t have to be this way.’

‘It’s a little late for your pleas, don’t you think, Merlin?’ Morgana looked at him with utter contempt. ‘You should have thought of that before you forced the poison down my throat, before you ruined my sister’s life, before you assisted my wretched brother in the persecution of our own kind. You’re a traitor, Merlin, and I will make you pay for that.’ She risked a quick glance at Arthur’s body. The king seemed to be only barely conscious. Lucas was better. He was sitting up already, his eyes never leaving the witch. He was like a predator assessing a rival.

‘You will not take him.’ He managed to come across as determined and unyielding, but there was a large part of Merlin that wanted to do nothing more than fall to his knees and beg Morgana’s forgiveness and make everything into what it had been before this nightmare had started. Deep down inside he just wanted the old Morgana back, the one that teased Arthur, stood up for those who could not do it themselves and exchanged witticisms with just about everyone she encountered. But he firmly locked that part of him away. He had let himself be led by that for far too long and there were lives at stake here. Arthur’s life was at stake here.

Morgana smirked in a way that might even put Lucas and his most creepy smile to shame. She took a few steps closer to Arthur, as if she was challenging him. _Stop me if you can_.

There were footsteps outside. More help was coming, but the warlock now knew that was no use at all. Morgana would just look at them and they would be as dead or unconscious as their colleagues. No, it was up to Merlin to put an end to this and somehow he had always known that.

‘I am warning you, Morgana,’ he said.

She was not impressed. ‘You could not kill me, Merlin.’ The confidence rang in her every word.

And Merlin froze, knowing that it was true. He could not do it. When he had poisoned her, it had been a desperate measure, something he had regretted ever since. He could not do that to her again, no matter what the consequences. He had killed several others in the past, but Morgana was different. What if there was still something of the old Morgana left? Then killing her would destroy every possibility of her resurfacing.

And Morgana knew this, knew it and used it. She made a beeline for the injured king and she would have taken him, were it not for the timely intervention of the person Merlin had until several minutes ago believed to be a traitor.

Lucas North had jumped to his feet and did the only thing he could do: he jumped forward and literally pushed Morgana out of the way. At the same moment the room started to fill with more armed men.

Morgana looked around her, quickly taking in the situation. Merlin could see it in her eyes, the knowledge that she could not make it out of this place unscathed. While the warlock had been otherwise occupied some men had restrained Bob Hogan, meaning that she was now alone and without allies. She was all alone and they were many.

Merlin would later say that he had never been able to guess her next move, but in hindsight it was more than a little predictable. Morgana’s eyes started to colour gold again as she shouted the spell. ‘ _Bedyrne ús_! _Astýre ús þanonweard_!’

Merlin recognised it instantly. ‘No!’ he screamed.

But he knew he was too late even then. There was nothing he could do to. He could only watch helplessly how Morgana disappeared in a magical whirlwind, taking Lucas with her. And even though they had succeeded in rescuing Arthur, Merlin felt as if they had lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehm... sorry? Yes, they’re definitely not out of the woods yet. But I do know exactly where I am going to take this, so don’t worry. Next chapter should be up next week. In the meantime, please leave a comment? I’d like to hear your thoughts.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

 

‘I am perfectly all right, _Mer_ lin!’ Arthur could hear himself snap at his servant and he knew he should feel bad about it, but right now he was just too mad to bring himself to care.

He was standing outside the barn, or rather, what remained of the barn. The king of Camelot had no idea what Morgana had done with that last spell, but the whirlwind that came from it had made the already weakened building collapse almost entirely. Fortunately no one had died as a result of Morgana’s last trick, although several CO19 officers were severely injured. The Section Chief herself had come out of it with a twisted ankle and several scratches and bruises from where Morgana had thrown her against the walls. Not that Ros Myers was the kind of person to comment on that. Arthur even doubted she would admit that she was hurt even when she was bleeding out.

Or maybe it was just easy to forget that you were hurt when there were so many other things to occupy your mind. Arthur knew he was not in his best shape himself, still feeling the aftereffects of the drug and the benefits of being magically tossed across the room, but he found it surprisingly easy to ignore that.

Harry was on the phone, shouting again, but Arthur did not feel the need to know who the unfortunate person was his wrath was directed against. He was still too busy replaying the final showdown in the now no longer existing barn in his mind. In hindsight it had been an extremely foolish idea to take his eyes off Morgana. He had known she was dangerous, he had known he should have dealt with her when he had the chance and he had still messed it up, even as he had her cornered.

But he was almost as angry with Merlin as he was with himself. After all, he had the chance as well, but at the moment itself he had been incapable of doing what it took. And he had not yet forgotten their fight either, so his servant’s fussing was more than a little unwelcome.

‘You’re bleeding,’ the warlock pointed out.

‘Scratches,’ he replied dismissively.

Merlin did not understand, but then he had never even liked Lucas. Arthur had, still did. He had no idea if the man was even still alive. If anything, it was for sure that Morgana was not going to be happy with the way things had turned out. And now Lucas was at her mercy and they had no idea where to even start looking. The king of Camelot felt like hitting something or, better still, someone in frustration.

Ros seemed to share this feeling. The Section Chief glared at Merlin as if she wanted him for lunch. No doubt she held him responsible for the failing of the operation. Arthur found he shared that feeling. If he had done something, this would not have happened and Lucas would not have been abducted to God knows where.

Well, at least one good thing had come from all this: Hogan had been taken. If anyone would know something about Morgana’s plans and hide-outs it would be him. They could get their information right from the horse’s mouth, had the horse’s mouth not been firmly shut, with no intention of opening anytime soon. The former CIA officer had been cuffed and manhandled into a car to be transported back to Thames House, where hopefully they would succeed in changing his mind about not talking.

‘News?’ he asked as Ros came over.

The expression on her face should have been all the answer he needed. ‘Not bloody likely!’ she spat. ‘Harry’s arranging a meeting with the Home Secretary now. You are going to meet him in an hour.’

Arthur was severely tempted to ask why, but he decided to save that question for her boss. They may have been allies, possibly were still, but right now Ros’s temper was already running low. It would not do to try her patience any further.

‘What do you want me to do?’ Merlin asked. The look in his eyes was guarded. You didn’t need to be an expert on the Section Chief’s moods to see that she was positively livid and that she blamed Merlin for the fact that this entire operation had gone completely belly-up. Arthur found he could not blame her for that.

‘You and I are going to interrogate Bob bloody Hogan.’ Ros spoke the name as if it were some kind of contagious disease she might catch if she came anywhere near it. ‘And we had better get anything useful out of him.’

Arthur suddenly didn’t mind that he would go with Harry on his own. He had a feeling that putting Ros Myers and Merlin together in a room with Bob Hogan might not only be bad for the American’s health, but was quite possibly a danger to all the persons involved.

He left them to discuss their interrogation strategy and joined Harry in another car. He quickly shed the blanket some of the medics insisted he wore around his shoulders and slid into the passenger seat. Harry was still barking orders into the phone and Arthur thought it best to leave the head of Section D to it.

It at least gave him the time to order his thoughts. He still had no idea what he was even supposed to think about all this. Maybe it was just best to start with something simple, something he was absolutely sure of: Lucas was no traitor. Every doubt he had harboured – and after his abductions there had been a good few – had gone down the drain the moment he had heard the spook snap at Hogan the very reasons why he would be the last person alive to ever betray his colleagues. The fact that he had pointed his gun at the other man had, admittedly, greatly helped in convincing the king of Camelot.

Having said that, he still had no idea why Lucas had thought it a good idea to make Arthur believe it was all for real. He had not really been afraid for his life, but he sure as hell had been ready to dispose of Lucas as well as of Hogan and Morgana if he got as much as half a chance. Was that just the nature of his work or had he really been right at the very edge, about to turn over to Morgana and burn all his bridges behind him?

Well, it was a useless question to be asking. The only person who could answer it was either dead or in a very tight spot and he had only gotten himself into that position because of Arthur. He would love to pretend otherwise, but it remained a fact that had Arthur not floated the idea of taking on Morgana on their own, Lucas would still be with them. True, he might still be quite pissed off and frustrated, but he would also be very much alive.

He was pondering this as he silently walked next to Harry through the corridors of Whitehall. The head of the section was still on the phone, snapping, barking and giving orders left, right and centre, but Arthur was not really listening. It wouldn’t do him much good and by now he had resigned himself to the fact that he would never understand more than a tenth of the things his allies were saying.

Things only got interesting again as they entered Nicholas Blake’s office. It had only been a few days ago since he had last been here, but it felt like a lifetime. Because a few days ago he had had no idea what was really happening here and now he was into it up to his eyeballs. Arthur decided he liked the ignorance better.

‘Harry. Arthur.’ The greeting was far less friendly and far less amused than it had been too.

‘Home Secretary.’ Harry’s greeting was equally curt. Arthur himself settled for just an acknowledging nod. Last time he checked Blake had been altogether friendly with Richard Dolby, even if he had taken Ros’s side in the end, and he doubted things had changed that much.

‘Take a seat,’ Blake told them.

Arthur reluctantly did as he was told. He very much preferred to remain standing so that was towering over the politician. In Camelot that always was rather effective. But in Camelot he always got his way and that was not the case here, as much as he’d hate that.

‘Would you like to explain what you were doing this morning, Harry?’ Mr Blake looked like he had spent the night in his office, living on only coffee and adrenaline. His tie was hanging halfway down his chest and his clothes were all rather crumpled. ‘I had the American ambassador on the phone and he told me your people had threatened to tell lies about them to the press…’

‘They were not lies,’ Arthur interjected.

Blake’s face told him he really had not wanted to know that and he continued as if he hadn’t. ‘And now I had a call from your boss telling you called out the cavalry to do God knows what!’

‘Yes, that has to be somewhere in my job description,’ Harry said pleasantly, not at the very least impressed by the accusing tone. Arthur suspected he had years and years of experience in playing politicians. It should not be that much of a surprise that he seemed perfectly at ease here. If he was worrying about his officer’s safety, of which Arthur was almost one hundred percent sure, he didn’t show it. ‘Especially when the most dangerous witch in history abducts my officers and threatens to blow dozens of civilians sky-high. She still has my best field officer. I require every assistance I can get to get a full-scale witch hunt organised as soon as possible to track her down before she can do any more damage.’

‘Harry, we don’t call the cavalry for personal rescue missions…’ Blake started. ‘As much as I would love to help you, I cannot allow you to use our resources, paid for with the tax payers’ money, to be used to save one officer.’

‘Why not?’ Arthur demanded. Lucas had saved his life. He must have known he put himself at risk, doing that. It was a sacrifice and Arthur could not allow that to go unanswered. He had relied on Lucas to keep him safe throughout the operation. Now it was time to return the favour. And they could not afford to lose any more time while this politician was being deliberately obstructive. ‘Home Secretary, I do not think you fully understand the situation we are currently in. Lucas North risked his life for me. I can’t sit back and wait for Morgana to torture him to death!’

Even while he said that he recalled a very different, yet very similar conversation he had once had with his father. In the back of his head he heard his father’s voice again: ‘Then don’t look. This boy won’t be the last to die on your behalf. You’re going to be king. It’s something you’ll have to get used to.’

Arthur remembered those words had made him want to throw up, even back then, when he had still been that arrogant prat of a prince. ‘I can’t accept that,’ he had told his father.

‘One day I will be dead and Camelot will need a king. I’m not going to let you jeopardise the future of this kingdom for the sake of one serving boy!’ Uther’s voice rose in anger as he turned towards his son, who was just about ready to ride out and face danger for his manservant who was dying as a result of a poison that had been meant for Arthur himself.

‘Because his life is worthless?’ Arthur had demanded, face wrinkling in disgust at that idea.

‘No, because it is worth less than yours.’

Those harsh and unfeeling words now echoed in Arthur’s mind and he realised that even in this day and age things had not really changed. Arthur was still the privileged royal who was expected to stand by and watch as other people risked their lives for him, _lost_ their lives for him. And it made him furious.

And the Home Secretary reacted as expected. He was a little nervous, knowing who it was that he was talking to, but his resolve never wavered. ‘It cannot be done. He is just one man and I have an entire population to think about. I am truly sorry to hear about this, but it was his duty.’

 _It was her duty and she will be honoured for it_. His father’s words sounded in his mind once again, immediately followed by Morgana’s: _I don’t want her honoured, I want her rescued!_

And that was exactly how Arthur felt now and, by the looks of it, Harry as well. The head of Section D slammed his fist on the table, making the cups on it rattle. ‘This man sacrificed eight years of his life in a Russian prison for the sake of this country!’ he bellowed. ‘And he has never once betrayed any secrets to his interrogators. We owe him.’

Nicholas Blake at least looked slightly uncomfortable, maybe even guilty. ‘I understand your emotions…’

But Arthur had just about enough of it. ‘Emotions?’ he echoed. ‘Is that really all this is to you? Someone’s life is at stake here!’ Somehow he had ended up on his feet during that little speech, although he could not for the life of him remember doing that. Not that it mattered. And he was too angry to care about it anyway. ‘Lucas North has been taken by Morgana, because he tried to save me and therefore wasted every chance he had of getting out of there himself. I will not leave him at _her_ mercy!’

If he had hoped that this would actually change Blake’s mind, he was sorely mistaken. The politician gave every impression of wanting to get out of this office, as far away from the angry king of Camelot as he possibly could, but Arthur’s shouting did not change the decision he had no doubt already made before Harry had even begun his report. ‘I agree, it is regrettable.’

Wasn’t this man just infuriating? Arthur just wanted to bang his head against the nearest wall. He might even have done it, if he believed it would actually help. As it was that course of action would probably only lead to someone calling the security and that would not help at all in getting Lucas out of Morgana’s clutches at all. There was however one way…

‘Regrettable?’ he shouted, unable to hold it back. He could hardly believe someone could truly be this unfeeling. Could he really just sentence one of his own people to die from his comfortable chair whilst drinking a cup of tea? It made the king’s blood boil. ‘It is a shame, that it is, but I will not call this regrettable until we know for certain that he has gone. Until then we are going to do everything in our power to bring Lucas home and _you_ are going to cooperate.’ He stabbed his finger at the politician’s chest.

He knew he was treading on very thin ice here, but it had worked well enough the day before. If he had learned one thing from his encounter with Laurie Werner it was that blackmail worked even better than shouting and if that was the way to get this annoying man to do his bidding, then that was what he would do. Of course it would be even better to have the option to throw him in the dungeons, but without that option available he would have to settle for the next best thing.

At least his barely concealed threat ruffled some feathers. ‘I beg your pardon?’

Harry sent Arthur a warning glance, which the king pretended not to see. ‘Because if you will not, I think my colleagues are more than capable, and willing, to dig up some dirt on you and only imagine how the press would react to that.’ It was a gamble. He wasn’t even sure that there was something to threaten Nicholas Blake with, but desperate times asked for desperate measures and it would be more than worth it if Blake fell for it.

And he did. He had gone unhealthily pale and he had been bristling with rage only seconds later, but he did give his permission to use quite a few resources to try and bring Lucas back. Of course that was not how he phrased it. In his words it was only to try and catch Morgana, who indeed was a credible threat to national security. It was of course purely coincidence that finding Morgana would automatically also mean finding Lucas, because officially they were not allowed to go and look for him until after they had dealt with Morgana.

But Arthur was not going to be difficult about it. He felt reasonably pleased with his own performance when they exited the office, Harry already digging up his phone again to issue orders to the team.

‘I have to ask,’ the elderly spook said as they walked out of the building. ‘Is this the first time you manipulated the will of another person?’

‘Apart from Merlin and Miss Werner?’ Arthur asked.

Harry nodded.

The king thought about that for a second and then nodded too. ‘Yes, I think so.’

The head of Section D snorted. ‘You’re a born spook, Arthur Pendragon.’

Somehow he quite liked the sound of that.

 

***

 

By the time she was on her way to collect Merlin from his temporary desk Ros at least had her emotions more or less under control again. She still felt like shouting at the warlock for letting Morgana escape, but she could control herself now. She even was capable of giving herself a good mental scolding. Her emotions were supposed to stay far away from Thames House and Ros had just committed the worst crime possible: she had allowed her personal feelings to influence her work.

 _So get a bloody grip on yourself, Myers_ , she told herself sternly, forcing herself to remember exactly what had happened the last time she had let herself be blinded by her feelings. And Ros was in no hurry to repeat the Yalta experience, which in this case meant she had to rein in her temper and work together with that pathetic excuse for a sorcerer who failed at his attempt of being Superman.

At least he seemed fully aware of the consequences of his actions, which was something, Ros supposed. He had thrown himself at his work while she had arranged for Hogan to be transported to one of their charming basement holding cells. What he had been doing, Ros did not know, but he had been doing it with a devotion she had seldom seen before.

And they would need to work hard on this one, because right now they hadn’t got a clue as to where Lucas had been taken. Ros had called Malcolm the moment they had left the barn to trace that tracker that Lucas was still carrying on his person and the technician had promised to get right down to it. At least this had given her some hope that they would be able to get to him before it was too late.

But her hopes had gone right down the drain the moment she had set foot on the Grid and Malcolm had run at her with the news that for some reason that was even beyond his comprehension the tracker had stopped working. This should not have been possible, unless it had been destroyed, which would only have happened if Morgana had found and destroyed it. That didn’t do anything to improve either Lucas’s chances of survival or the Section Chief’s already bad mood.

‘You, with me,’ she told him in passing, not even waiting for his reply. She wasn’t sure yet she could listen to one without flying off the handle again.

Merlin seemed to sense that. He just got up and followed her, although to remain silent was apparently too much to ask. ‘What are we going to do?’ he asked.

The Section Chief was tempted to throw her hands in the air in exasperation. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t told him before. ‘Are you deaf?’ she countered.

That had him blushing and stammering like a school boy. ‘No, no, I mean, how are we going to interrogate him?’

‘Just a nice little getting-to-know-you chat,’ Ros replied through clenched teeth. If it had been up to her she would have intensively interrogated the man right away, but that idea had been vetoed by Harry, just in case the powers that be decided that the American should be returned to his rightful owners and they would not want to upset them by returning Hogan in a more or less damaged state.

 _Sod them_. If the CIA got their hands on Hogan they would just release him again. Or they would lock them away in the black hole that was their prison system and they would never see him again. And in either of those cases they would never get the information they needed from him.

‘We’ll go in, try to get something out of him and report back to Harry when he comes back,’ she clarified.

Merlin frowned. ‘That’s it? He’ll never tell us anything!’

That she could have figured out herself perfectly. Hogan was a trained CIA officer with years and years of experience. Even though he may be fat and out of practise, he quite possibly knew every single way to get another spy talking. And that would also mean that he also knew every single way to keep his mouth shut, no matter what they did to him.

‘We are not allowed to touch him,’ Ros pointed out. ‘But with your powers you don’t really need to touch him, do you?’ That was the small flaw in Harry’s order and she would not hesitate to use it. Ros’s own appearance might also serve to throw him off balance. Hogan hated her with a passion for her involvement with Yalta. It might strengthen his resolve not to talk, but it might also make him angry enough to blurt something out that he should not have said.

Merlin had frozen in mid-motion. ‘You can’t be serious!’ he exclaimed. ‘I mean, we can’t…’

Ros cut him off. ‘Yes, you can,’ she snapped. ‘Because if you cannot, Lucas will die and Morgana will get away. And right now, I am your superior officer, so you will do what it takes. Is that understood?’

The warlock sent her a defying look.

‘You may not like Lucas,’ she told him. ‘But he is your colleague for the moment and he was abducted to save that precious king of yours when you could not. You owe him.’

That seemed to land the message home and the warlock nodded. ‘I know.’ He almost sounded subdued now and he didn’t meet Ros’s eyes. Shame, she should hope.

‘I should bloody well hope so,’ she growled at him. ‘Now, when we’re in there, you are going to ignore everything he says about me or my past. He’ll try to turn us against each other and you’re not going to let him. Keep in mind that we need to get him talking. The rest is not important.’

Had she been carrying out this interrogation with Lucas, she would not have needed to say this. He would have understood all this without her needing to spell it out to him. But he was Morgana’s prisoner and it would be up to them to get him back. She had made a silent vow to herself that she would not let him relive the nightmare that had been Russian prison again. A year ago she had failed to bring Zaf home and he had died. Lucas was going to come home.

But Merlin nodded. He even seemed to grasp the meaning of what she said, which was a miracle in and out of itself. Arthur had called the man an idiot and the more she saw of the warlock, the more she tended to agree with him.

They reached the interrogation room and Ros mentally braced herself. It would not do to let herself be ruled by her emotions now. _Go in, get that information and get out again._

‘After you,’ she told Merlin.

Hogan had been properly cuffed to his chair and Ros was glad of it. While she was quite certain that between her and Merlin they would be perfectly capable of restraining Hogan should he try something, it was better still to know that he couldn’t try something in the first place.

The American gave Merlin a fleeting glance, but didn’t seem to be thinking him important. And taken into account that Merlin’s performance in the barn had been anything but impressive, Ros could not really blame him for that. She sincerely hoped that he could get himself together and be a bit more decisive in here. They needed that information.

But Merlin’s attitude was worrying. As soon as Arthur was in some way involved, Merlin would give it his all. He had worked on the operation so hard only because Morgana had been trying to get to Arthur and even the Al-Qaeda operation had been a way for him to get help for the traitor problem in Camelot. But now Arthur was no longer in danger and the warlock could obviously not care less about Lucas. If he could, then he would not have been so quick to distrust him in the first place.

She was well aware that she was trying to delay the moment she had to look at the man they had taken captive. She wished she could figure out why he terrified her so much, because really, it wasn’t as if he had done so much harm to her. True, he had been demanding of Harry to hand her over when her involvement with Yalta had been revealed and she was pretty sure that he would have killed her if only given the chance, but when it came down to it, Juliet Shaw had come a hell of a lot closer to achieving that goal with her blasted needle than this piece of garbage.

 _So, get yourself together, Myers_ , she told herself firmly. _You mess this up, then Lucas will pay the price for that failure._

That was exactly the kind of encouragement that she needed right now. Lucas was still in danger and this man held the key to finding him. And Lucas had seen too many years of captivity already. It was her job to make sure that he didn’t see any more.

She slid the door shut behind her and leaned against it with an expression of perfect boredom, while Merlin took a chair. This, of course, didn’t mean that she did not dare come any closer. It was purely for operational reasons.

Hogan’s eyes seemed to measure her and Ros forced herself to meet his gaze evenly. She would do well to remember that she, and not he, was the interrogator here.

‘Ros Myers,’ Hogan acknowledged in the end. His tone managed to convey perfectly all the contempt he felt for her.

The Section Chief grimaced. ‘The feeling is mutual.’ Forcing herself to think of the things this man had done helped in turning her irrational fear to rational hatred. That she could deal with. No problem whatsoever. ‘Now, I think you know how this goes,’ she told him nicely, slowly walking over to the chair next to Merlin’s, opposite Bob Hogan. ‘You are going to tell us where your charming accomplice is or you’ll never see daylight again.’ It would be no good trying to charm Hogan into anything anyway. She might as well start out being her usual self all the time.

‘And where would spilling the beans, as it were, leave me?’ Hogan wondered.

‘With the warm feeling of doing the right thing,’ Ros countered with a smile that normally sent all her enemies – and her own colleagues half of the time – running for cover. ‘Must be a new experience for you.’

Hogan seemed not in the least bit alarmed, which was an alarming fact in and out of itself. ‘Do you even know how that feels, Miss Myers, after all you’ve done?’ The smirk was too obvious to miss.

A small part of Ros, the impulsive part, wanted to do nothing more than to hit Hogan, or do something equally stupid. She did not know how he did it, but that man got right under her skin. A somewhat wiser part told her to start following her own advice and not listen to anything he said about her and her past. Yalta had been over and done with and her involvement with them had been forgiven the moment she had been reinstated.

She ignored him. ‘What do you think will happen to that comfortable retirement if you keep your mouth shut?’ she asked casually. If her hand tightened around her coffee mug that was purely coincidental. It had nothing to do whatsoever with her urge to throttle this man with her bare hands. Nothing at all.

The American’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you offering me a deal, Miss Myers?’

 _In your dreams_. There was just no way she would ever give in to any demands Hogan might make. He was not going to be free again, not while she lived and breathed. ‘Well, let’s look at it this way, shall we?’ she proposed, before she elaborated: ‘You tell me nothing and I can make this process a very long and painful one for you. You tell me where to find Morgana and I might just decide to not kill you.’ Right away.

This of course was bluff. If Blake was trying to make nice with the Americans there was every chance of them having to give Hogan back. That they lost track of Morgana in the process was something those politicians probably didn’t think about for a moment. Honestly, the longer Ros worked here, the more she understood Harry’s absolute dislike of every single politician in existence. It would be up to her – since Merlin didn’t seem to be doing anything useful so far – to get that information they needed as soon as they possibly could.

Hogan knew this. ‘You’re bluffing, Myers. Your government won’t let you get away with that.’

Ros smirked at him. ‘They let me get away with treason,’ she reminded him. If he was going to try and use her past against her, she might as well use it against him as well. ‘How difficult do you think they’ll be when they learn I accidentally killed the man responsible for the station bombing? Who knows, might do our image some good with the general public.’

Merlin had been getting restless during this little exchange. He gave the impression of sitting on a hedgehog rather than a comfortable chair. ‘We’re wasting time here,’ he suddenly interjected. Ros felt the urge to slap him down for interrupting him just as Hogan was finally starting to look a tad bit uneasy, but the warlock was already going on again before she could say a single word. ‘You’re trying to buy time so that we won’t get to Lucas in time,’ he accused Hogan.

Maybe Ros had been mistaken about him, she wondered. Maybe the warlock did care about what happened to her colleague. Or maybe he was just trying to get back into Arthur’s good books by helping to save the man Arthur considered a friend. That scenario wasn’t out of the question either. Either way, he seemed rather passionate about this and as long as that was the case she did not feel the need to question his motives. She would save that for later. For now they were allies.

Hogan replied with a smirk of his own. Keep this up and this would turn into a smirking contest rather than an interrogation. ‘You must be Merlin. Not quite as impressive as I would have imagined.’

Had Ros been in his place she would have retaliated immediately by showing him some impressive magic, preferably the kind that would keep this man pinned against the nearest wall to drive the message home. Merlin did no such thing. ‘We want to know where Morgana is,’ he told Hogan. ‘And we will use any means necessary to get that information out of you.’ There was a cold in his voice now that Ros had only heard a few times before and even though she would rather die than admit it, she found it a bit scary. It was almost, she pondered, as if there was some deathly magic radiating off him that would be obvious even to those who did not know that he possessed those powers in the first place. There was authority here. From anyone else’s mouth this would have sounded like plain old threatening, but Merlin managed to make it sound as if he would not have any trouble at all making good on his threats. There was something rather unnerving about that.

Hogan too had heard it, if that flash of unease that crossed his face was anything to go by. But he had been a spook all his life and he had learned to mask his feelings. ‘Well, you see, here’s the thing, Merlin,’ he said. There was a gleam in his eyes that Ros did not trust at all. ‘I can start telling you everything I know, of course, but what good would that do me? You would just get rid of me as soon as the last word had left my mouth. And at least I know you won’t kill me as long as you think I still have some valuable information. And I won’t part with that unless you offer me a good deal that involves money, a passport and safe passage to a country that doesn’t have an extradition treaty with either the UK or the US.’

Ros had been in the Service for quite a long time, long enough to know that they would not be getting anything from him today. Her fingers were itching to turn the screws on him, but she also knew she could not do so until she knew for sure that they would be allowed to hang onto Hogan for a while.

‘We’re done here,’ she announced.

Merlin stared at her with wide eyes, clearly incapable of believing that she would give up that soon already. ‘But…’ he began to protest.

Ros forced herself not to explode. Had that man not yet learned to obey orders without question? ‘No really, we’re done.’ She got up and walked around the table, placing her coffee, still steaming hot, in front of Hogan on the table. ‘And you might as well finish that.’ Her smile was sickening sweet. ‘You’re going to need it for when I return the next time. Because then I will not be so nice as I was just now.’ And that was more of a promise than it was a threat.

Hogan scowled at her. ‘You really think you could fool me into drinking that, Myers?’ he snorted. ‘What would happen to me if I drank that? Would I just start throwing up or would it be something much worse?’

Ros copied Connie’s most dismissive tut with ease as she shook her head at him. ‘None of that, I think,’ she told him. ‘Though I do need to warn you. It’s very…’ She pushed the mug off the table, spilling its contents right into the American’s lap. ‘Hot,’ she finished. She had done that some years before as well, but why not use the same tactic more than once, especially when there was just no way one could argue with the results?

Hogan howled in pain as the hot liquid came into contact with his private parts and Merlin’s eyes widened at the sight of it. The warlock had clearly not been expecting her to do something he would probably call sadistic. Maybe it was just best that he didn’t yet know she had not so long ago killed someone with a fork. He might just faint hearing that.

She leaned over. ‘And next time, I’m going to do much worse to you,’ she whispered into his ears before straightening up. ‘So I’ll leave you to ponder the consequences of not being a little more communicative.’

With that threat she ushered Merlin out of the door. No matter what it took, she would get this man to talk. That was a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so that was an extra chapter. I had this done anyway, so I figured I might as well post it. Next chapter should, as scheduled, be up Saturday, and then I will reveal what is going on with Lucas, promise.  
> In the meantime, comments are still very much appreciated. I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s the next chapter. I would like to warn you that the last bit may be a bit darkish. It wasn’t my intention, but the story got away from me again, taking on a life of its own. I really want to keep this story T-rated, but if I need to change it, please let me know. Well, at least you’ve been warned. Enjoy and, as always, comments are very much appreciated.

**Chapter 32**

 

The atmosphere on the Grid was tense. There was no other word to describe it. Merlin himself was no exception to that. In fact, if he had the option of crawling into a corner and wait for all this to be over, he would probably have taken it without as much as a second thought.

He felt positively miserable and not in the last place because Ros’s snapped remarks had been more or less true. If he had acted just a little bit faster this need never have happened. Lucas would still be with them and Morgana would be gone forever. They had been this close to ending this once and for all and thanks for his stupid inability to act at the right moment, they were now in as much of a mess as they ever were, with no means of knowing where Morgana was or what on earth she was up to, save for her accomplice in the interrogation room downstairs who refused to open his mouth.

Merlin knew Arthur would not look on him any differently now. If anything, he blamed Merlin for what had happened. Of course he had not said it in words, but he hadn’t needed to. The message was perfectly clear to anyone with half a brain.

The king of Camelot had arrived at the Grid approximately five minutes ago. He had been making for his desk, but when he saw that Merlin had been standing there, he had changed direction almost immediately, joining Connie instead. It was hardly subtle, but then that word didn’t even seem to be in his vocabulary. Somehow this hurt all the more.

The warlock was pondering this as he was going over some tips that had come in concerning Morgana’s whereabouts. Not that Merlin had much trust in them. If catching Morgana would be that easy, they’d have caught her years ago. But at any rate it was better to do something than to do nothing at all. At least now he could tell himself that he was trying. It made him feel a little less useless, if only a little.

Because he did feel useless. Not only had he jeopardised the entire operation, he had also made a completely wrong assessment of Lucas’s loyalties. Arthur was right: he should have had faith in the Senior Case Officer, but really, could he have known that man could act so well? If he was right, even his own colleagues had doubted him. Good grief, even Harry had lost faith in Lucas in the end.

But Ros and Arthur had not. How ironic that the king who had not recognised Morgana’s betrayal for so long and who still had to see Agravaine’s true nature had been right about Lucas? And how Ros had known that Lucas was still on their side, he would probably never know. That woman had a mental armour that was as impenetrable as the walls of Camelot.

He was snapped out of his thoughts that had long since stopped paying attention to the work he was supposed to be doing, by Harry’s best commander roar. ‘Meeting room, _NOW_!’

Nobody was in a mood to try his patience. The head of the section had been in a right foul mood ever since returning from the Home Office and no one had yet dared to ask how that had come about. Knowing Harry’s dislike for what Connie called political haymaking, it would at least be a safe bet to say that something there had not gone quite according to plan.

The room quickly filled up in silence. In fact, it was very much like it had been that morning, with the exception that Arthur now was present. The king had been unusually quiet. It wasn’t like Arthur to be so silent when something bothered him. Arthur didn’t do silence. He voiced his displeasure at the top of his lungs. But it would seem that Ros’s icy attitude was catching.

Harry took his place at the head of the table, throwing some file forcefully on the table in order to get everyone’s attention. ‘We have not been authorised to use every resource available to track down Lucas,’ he began, the tone betraying what exactly he thought about that.

The silence returned as everyone exchanged worried glances. Merlin could feel his own fists clench under the table. This was bad news and he knew it. They were already losing time here and Morgana wasn’t known for wasting time, especially not when she believed someone had betrayed her. And even though Lucas had never been really on her side, he knew that was how she would look upon it.

‘So, what will we do now?’ Jo asked hesitantly in the end.

‘We will use every resource available to track down Lucas,’ Harry said briskly. ‘He risked his life today and we are not going to leave him out in the cold. If anyone doesn’t feel up to taking this risk, they can leave now and don’t come back.’ There was a pointed look in Merlin’s direction. While it really made his blood boil, he also knew that he had deserved it. He had never fully trusted the Senior Case Officer and he had not really made a secret out of it either. It was only logical that the others now had doubts about his willingness to break the rules and do their best to find Lucas despite the fact that they had been forbidden to do so.

And so he met Harry’s look with defiance. ‘I’m with you,’ he replied.

Ros’s eyebrows went up, but she refrained from commenting, for which the warlock was secretly grateful. His motives were his own. They were no one else’s business.

Harry just nodded. ‘Right. Dolby might come in and ask what we’re doing. If he does, we’re tracking down Morgana. We have been told she has to have our first priority and that we should only focus on Lucas when we’re done with her.’ Merlin could swear he could hear Ros’s teeth grit in anger. Knowing how she felt about protecting her team, that should not have come as a surprise.

‘Those two things don’t have to be entirely separate,’ Merlin felt obliged to point out. ‘She will probably keep him as close as she can to prevent him from escaping.’

‘Or she dumps him somewhere,’ Connie remarked dryly. ‘She might have other accomplices here.’

Now there was one very unwelcome thought, but it was one they had to take into account. It might just be the thing Morgana was doing, although it seemed unlikely to Merlin. And he said as much. ‘I don’t think she has. She never has had more than one ally at a time and her plans are never really too sophisticated.’ It was important now that they too knew who exactly it was that they were dealing with, so he would have to share his knowledge with them.

Ros gave him a disbelieving look. ‘I think getting an Al-Qaeda terror cell to organise the market bombings while leading MI-5 around by the nose rather bloody sophisticated.’

‘That could just have been Hogan,’ Ben chimed in. ‘He was always something of a schemer, wasn’t he?’

Harry nodded. ‘Right. So that means he’ll probably know everything there is to know about her sodding plans. Where do we stand with him?’

The Section Chief’s nose wrinkled in disgust. ‘He wants a _deal_.’ If her tone was anything to go by, she thought that the single most revolting word in the world.

Harry slapped that down right away. ‘He’s not getting it. Turn the screws on him until the pips squeak and he has told every last secret he has. He has to know what she is up to and we will not rest until he has told us.’

Ros gave a curt nod. Having witnessed Ros’s way of “dealing” with Hogan he had very little doubt about what kind of things she would do to him to get him to talk now that she had been permitted to let go of the soft approach. To be quite honest, the fact that she had dropped hot coffee into Hogan’s lap had kind of shocked him. The fact that she had done so without batting an eyelash, that she had even done that with that pleasant smile on her face, that had shocked him even more. The warlock had always known she was cold, but he had not been expecting that she was this cold. This, this was creepy. Maybe Lucas and Ros were more alike than he had seen up till now.

‘But I thought we were not allowed to touch him?’ he had asked when they had made their way back to the Grid.

Ros’s smile was almost sickeningly sweet. ‘I haven’t laid a finger on him, have I?’ She had sounded wholly unconcerned.

Merlin made a mental note never to underestimate her.

He was called back into the here and now when Harry turned his attention to Jo and Connie. ‘Where do you stand with Hogan’s file?’

‘We’re on it,’ Connie replied.

Harry’s face started to predict storm again.

The intelligence analyst favoured her boss with an altogether indignant look. ‘I’m an intelligence analyst, Harry, not Mystic Meg. These things take time.’

‘Then get Merlin to help you go through that file,’ Harry barked. ‘Make a list of every place he has been and then try to find out which ones he may have been using as hideouts. Morgana may still be using one of those.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Merlin spoke up again. ‘She’ll never believe that Hogan will keep his mouth shut. She will not want to risk that he tells us everything we know. She has grown rather paranoid in the last few years.’

‘Bit like you then,’ someone muttered. It sounded remarkably like Arthur.

And Harry hadn’t missed out on that either. His fist collided with the table again, making the cups on it rattle. ‘That’s enough!’ he bellowed, making even the fearsome king of Camelot fall back into his chair. ‘I will not have your petty grievances jeopardise this operation! If you can’t stand the sight of each other outside this building, then you’re welcome to it, but in here you will work together. So, one more word and I will have you both in the paper archive! Is that understood?’

Merlin was very much tempted to say that he most certainly did not agree with that arrangement. He was not answerable to Harry Pearce and it would seem that the spook had forgotten about that. But he was also right and that stopped Merlin from blurting something out that he just might regret later. If he blew this, he wasted every chance of getting back into Arthur’s good books and that was a risk he could simply not afford to take. And so he nodded. ‘Yes, Harry.’

Arthur had more trouble controlling his temper, but in the end he too gave a curt tentative nod. It was probably only for the sake of the mission that he agreed, because Arthur Pendragon wasn’t known to obey orders. That alone made Merlin realise once again how strongly the king felt about this. He had been suspecting for a while now, ever since the rest of the team had given up faith in Lucas, that Arthur regarded Lucas as one of his own men, a knight of sorts. And Arthur would do just about anything to protect his people. It was as admirable as it was reckless and Merlin was sure he would go grey before his time because of his king’s heroic tendencies, because when it came to his people, Arthur had a remarkable disregard for his own safety.

‘Good,’ Harry said. ‘Merlin, where do we stand with the leads on Morgana’s whereabouts?’

The warlock bit his lip. ‘Useless for as far as I can see. Either Morgana’s playing us or she was never there in the first place.’

‘Then leave that for the moment,’ the head of the section ordered. ‘Work together with Ros to get Hogan to talk.’

Ros grimaced. ‘I am not sure that is going to work, Harry,’ she said. ‘He’s too much aware of what will happen to him once we have no further use for him. He’ll keep his mouth firmly shut. Probably hoping that if only he holds out long enough the CIA will demand him back, the sodding bastard,’ she added under her breath.

‘And they’ve already called to voice their displeasure,’ Ben spoke up. ‘They want him back and they want him now.’

Harry’s face was murderous. ‘You can tell the cousins to stick that proposal where the sun doesn’t shine,’ he growled. Merlin could understand the sentiment. If Hogan was indeed responsible for the kidnapping of two of his officers and had aided Morgana in her evil schemes, he would not be in a hurry to lose him again.

Ben looked a bit uneasy. ‘They’re not going to like that,’ he said. ‘They’re already threatening to involve the government in this.’

The Section Chief sent him a dazzling smile, looking wholly unconcerned. ‘Diddums,’ she commented unsympathetically. Merlin got the, probably very accurate, impression that she could not care less about what the CIA wanted. Taken into account that the Americans had been less than helpful so far, Merlin couldn’t even bring himself to disagree with her on this one.

 ‘Well, they’re not really asking,’ Ben pointed out. ‘They’re demanding.’

That got a dismissive snort from the Section Chief. ‘And why on earth would they want that? Because they did such a splendid job of holding onto him the first time around?’

Harry clearly felt the same. ‘Either way, they’re _not_ getting him back.’

‘We might get into some trouble though if they make this official,’ Connie pointed out. Merlin had come to regard her as the most level-headed officer on the Grid. No matter how badly wrong things seemed to go, and no matter how panicked everyone else was, she always seemed to be able to keep a clear head. The only other one who seemed to be capable to keep his head under almost every circumstance was Malcolm, but even he had been uneasy when Lucas and Arthur had gone missing. Connie had not even seemed impressed at all.

‘They won’t,’ Arthur suddenly spoke up, resulting in every head swivelling in his direction.

‘And since when are you such an authority on CIA behaviour?’ Harry’s voice was dangerously low.

Arthur leaned back into his chair. Had Merlin not known better, he would have said that he was having meetings like this one on a daily basis. He had been less than pleased when they had first come here, but now he seemed completely at ease. It was almost as if he had been born to do this. ‘We still have Hogan’s involvement in the market and station bombings to hold over their heads, don’t we?’ he asked. ‘Surely they won’t want to risk the possible CIA involvement in the worst bombing in years to get out to the people of this kingdom?’

Merlin had to pinch himself to confirm that he was not dreaming this. Since when did Arthur do blackmail anyway? The king of Camelot always had been the type to shout and command. That was the way he used to get his way and in Camelot that was all it took for him. He was obeyed there, no matter how he asked, if he even asked at all. At any rate it was not like Arthur to use more subtle means to get his will done. Until now Merlin didn’t even know that Arthur had it in him to blackmail other people. He was secretly impressed.

The rest of the team also looked at Arthur like he had suddenly grown a second head. At least he wasn’t the only one to think Arthur’s sudden proposal strange and extremely out of character.

Arthur of course noticed this. He scowled at them. ‘I’m not an idiot!’ he defended himself. ‘I’ve done it yesterday as well.’

That prompted a memory of Harry being extremely annoyed by a certain phone call from the Americans, who had somehow come under the impression that MI-5 had threatened to name the United States as the culprit for the recent bombings. Maybe Arthur was capable of surprises every now and then.

Harry seemed to consider this for less than ten seconds. ‘It will be your responsibility to make sure they are aware of that,’ he told Arthur. For some reason the king seemed satisfied with that arrangement. Not that this was surprising to Merlin at all. As far as he was aware the king had never passed up an opportunity to shout at other people.

‘So, the rest of you get cracking on finding Hogan’s weaknesses. Finances, friends and family. I don’t care what you find, just find me a way to get him talking.’

It was a clear dismissal and the team was already getting up to leave when Arthur spoke again. ‘Can’t we just offer him a deal?’

Harry’s expression could have frozen the entire building. ‘We are not letting him get away with this.’

Arthur shook his head. ‘That’s not what I meant,’ he said. ‘But we can pretend to offer a deal, make him talk and then come back on our words.’

The silence that fell in the meeting room was as disbelieving as it was awkward. The warlock could hardly believe his own ears. Had he really just heard the Once and Future King propose that they lie? Arthur had never been one for lying. He just could not do it. The truth was mostly on his face for everyone to read. He could not conceal secrets even if he wanted to, which made lying an impossibility for him. Either there was more to the Pendragon king than met the eyes or this operation had drastically changed him. He felt a sense of loss at that. Arthur should never have needed to be anything else than the just and kind king with a streak of an arrogant prat.

But he could not deny either that this idea might be the only one that would work with Hogan. Merlin did not know much of the man, but he had seen enough to know that the former CIA officer was unlikely to break under any kind of torture. If they were to get the information they needed, they would need to trick him into telling it to them. And this idea of course had the added bonus of not taking days and days. And time was of the essence to them now.

The smirk on Ros’s face would even have had Morgana cower away in fear. ‘Not a totally stupid idea,’ she judged. ‘Let’s get to it.’

For the first time since Lucas had been taken Merlin felt like they actually stood a chance.

 

***

 

Lucas was disorientated when he regained consciousness. He had no idea where he was or how he had come to be wherever it was that he now found himself. The last thing he remembered was throwing himself against Morgana and getting transported away from the barn in what appeared to be a magical whirlwind. Next he knew he was being knocked on the head. Then there was just nothing.

His entire body ached. There were bruises from where he had fallen to the ground after knocking Morgana away from Arthur and his head was throbbing as well. But he had known far worse than this and so he forced himself to work past the physical pain and fight his way back into consciousness again.

Slowly he started to feel his body again and he wished right away that that had never happened in the first place. His hands were tied and held above his head with chains that had his heart beat as if he had just run a marathon. Russia. It was not exactly the same, but there had been a few occasions when he had been restrained like that.

‘No!’ he moaned, forcing his eyes open. ‘Not again, please!’ He knew he could not survive another eight years in prison. He was not even sure he could bear one more day. Now he knew what it was like to live again, to feel even remotely alive, he could not go back to that hell.

But it was not a Russian prison cell he found himself facing. It wasn’t even a real prison he was in. He found himself in what looked like a hovel that gave every impression of being in disuse for years. The furniture was dusty and even rotten in some cases, it was dark and the air smelled as if fresh air was in short supply here.

To top it off the roof was leaking. He appeared to be standing right under such a leak. He could feel the water steadily dripping onto him and he shivered. The cold had nothing to do with that, even if he felt positively frozen by now. No, he remembered all too well what had happened when last he had looked up into the rain. And Russia was already threatening to invade his mind again, torture him with the flashbacks that would leave him screaming for mercy until his throat was hoarse and he was crying like a child lost in the dark.

He clenched his hands into fists. No. He would not let that happen. He would not break. Those Russian bastards had not done it and if he could help it, Morgana would not do it either. He was stronger than that.

 _Harry will come_ , he told himself. _This time he will come._

But it was more of a desperate wish than a solid belief and he knew it. Harry did not even know where he was right now and here, all alone with the water dripping onto his head, threatening to take him back to Russia, the possibility of his boss charging in to save him became more and more unlikely with each passing second. He knew Harry would not make him a first priority. He was a spook to boot, always putting his duty first. And right now it would be his duty first to catch Morgana. Lucas would come in second place. And he had to, because the safety of Britain had to be put first. If that meant he would leave Lucas here to die, then that was what he would do, no matter how much it pained him to make that decision. It had been the same when he had been imprisoned in Russia. Only when Harry had a convenient chance had he pulled Lucas out of that hellhole. In a spy swap. And there would be no chance of that with Morgana. She would not want to get Hogan back. No, no help would come. He was on his own.

 _Harry sweated blood to get you back here_. The memory of Ros’s reproachful voice penetrated his thoughts. _He would rather die than let anything ever happen to you._

He remembered that, remembered when she had said that. It had been after the market bombings and they had discussed the value of colleagues. _Lovers leave, friends annoy you and families mess with your head, but colleagues are okay._ He had been doubting that, his opinion on the subject strongly influenced by the long eight years that he had been left to rot in prison. He had gone as far as to voice that opinion, even when he had not really been meaning to. Clearly Ros had been angered by his assumptions and she had told him that Harry had never once had given up on him, despite the things Kachimov had said on the subject. Her words had been like water to a thirsty man in the desert. Harry did care. He had not given up.

‘He will come.’ To say those words out loud made them somehow feel more real to him. He needed to believe that his boss would do whatever it took to get him back. He had promised. It had not been in words. It had only been a curt nod, but it had been enough. Harry would come.

‘How touching,’ a voice drawled somewhere behind him.

It was almost impossible for Lucas to turn. His entire weight seemed to hang on his hands, since his legs were not yet strong enough to carry him. But he recognised the voice. ‘Morgana,’ he acknowledged. He hated how weak he sounded. She must have hit him harder than he had believed her capable of. For such a fragile woman she had a lot of bodily strength.

‘You surprise me, Lucas North.’ Her voice was more of a sneer than a compliment and he mentally braced himself. He had heard that tone too often and nothing good had ever followed it.

He kept his silence. There was nothing he had to say to her. And he doubted that nothing he could say would stop her from inflicting whatever horror it was that she had in mind for him. She would do it anyway.

‘You would sacrifice your life for Arthur, yet he believes you a traitor.’ Her voice was sickeningly sweet. If she was trying to tempt him to join her side, as he was strongly suspected she was doing, then she was doing a very poor job of it. He had met the experts and Morgana wasn’t even close to doing what they had done to him. Now Lucas knew that Arthur did not think him a traitor, not anymore. The Senior Case Officer doubted he ever really had. For all his loud-mouthed and idiotic behaviour, the king of Camelot was an intelligent man, and a loyal one beyond the shadow of a doubt. He found it hard to believe that Arthur would willingly leave him at the mercy of this cruel witch.

‘He knows where my loyalties lie,’ he forced out from between clenched teeth. Part of him wished to start the torture already and be done with it. The actual deeds could not be worse than the anticipation and the water that dripped onto his head and trickled down his neck, down his back, making him shiver with the cold and the fear. But he would not go to pieces, not here. He would not show her weakness, not when he had been so adamant about hiding every sign of weakness to his FSB tormentors.

‘Does he?’ Morgana asked, still in that sweet, almost soothing voice. She was still out of his line of sight. Somehow that made the waiting all the worse. There was no telling when or where she might hit, no knowing what kind of torment she would inflict on him. He would have to turn around for that and whenever he tried to do that the chains hurt his wrists so badly that he changed his mind about turning. ‘You never got the chance to explain yourself though, did you? For all he knows you’ve only turned back to his side when you thought it would be wiser to do so. He cannot know if you were on his side the entire time. Because you were not, were you, Lucas? You were on my side and when you thought you could save your own skin by going back to them, you betrayed me.’

She was close now. Her voice was almost right behind his left ear. He could feel her breath on his skin and it froze him into place. Russia was trying to creep back up on him and heaven knew the trickling water on his head didn’t help. _I only need to keep it away from my face_ , he told himself. _Keep it away from my face and I will be all right._ And he knew he could do that. This was already torture, whether Morgana was aware of that or not, but if it were to fall directly on his face, Lucas knew for sure he would not be able to keep silent. He would be lost if that happened.

He forced Russia to the back of his mind and made himself concentrate on the conversation. The longer he could keep her talking, the longer she would wait with the torture. Because as much as he wanted this wait to be over, he wanted the torture even less. ‘I was never on your side,’ he told her. ‘I was MI-5 all the time.’ _I am still._

This only served to enrage Morgana. ‘No, you were not,’ she said forcefully. ‘You even betrayed your own friends to do it.’

This forced a snort of laughter from his throat. ‘I don’t do friends,’ Lucas informed the witch. A truer thing had never been said. ‘They’re either a nuisance or they’re boring.’ The only people one could trust were one’s colleagues. They were okay. In his line of work that was the absolute truth, he had come to learn. And they had come to his rescue only this morning, despite their distrust of him. He would have to have faith that they would find him again. He didn’t know where he was or if the tracker he had swallowed was even working still, but he would keep faith. Harry would come.

Morgana moved in front of him. ‘Let’s not bother with words,’ she snapped. ‘You betrayed them and they know it as well as I do. And now you have nowhere and no one to go back to.’

But he had. He knew he had. Ros knew the truth, Lucas was one hundred percent convinced of that. He had seen the look in her eyes as she had stormed into the barn that morning. There had not been even the hint of a doubt in her eyes, like there had been in Merlin’s. He still had his place in the Service and it was something worth fighting for.

‘Yes, I have.’ The words came out harsher than he had meant them. ‘And you’ve dug your own grave with this, Morgana. Right now, all of Section D will be on your trail. They will come for me.’ If he only told himself enough times, he might start to believe it himself and he found that he desperately needed that. He needed a reason to hold out until they found him.

She shook her head, an amused look on her face. ‘After your betrayal, Lucas? I doubt that.’

Lucas laughed in her face. It was a humourless bark of laughter, but he needed, he really _needed_ to defy her, to deny her words, lest he started to believe them. ‘You cannot honestly believe that I would betray my country on a whim after eight years in that Russian hellhole, can you? I do know what it means to be loyal to people, but I do not expect you to understand. You have no sense of loyalty at all, do you, Morgana?’

If he had meant to provoke her, he had succeeded. Unadulterated rage flashed across her face and before he knew it, a hand slapped him hard across the face. He tasted blood, but in a way he also felt triumphant. He had made her lose control, which essentially meant that now, even if it was only for a moment, he was controlling what happened here, even though he had been chained to the leaking ceiling. It helped him to ignore the trickle of water that threatened to drag him straight back to Russia.

‘You do not know me at all.’ Her voice was no more than a low hiss.

‘Then why have you not yet attempted to break your ally out of jail?’ Lucas challenged. ‘With your powers that should only be too easy for you.’ He was treading on thin ice, but he was still in control.

‘He abandoned me,’ Morgana replied curtly. ‘He let me down.’

Lucas snorted. ‘That was not the impression I got.’ That was a lie, strictly speaking. Hogan had no more loyalty for Morgana than she had for him, but it was more important to let her believe what he wanted her to. The truth was not important. He wondered if it ever was in his line of work. They told so many lies that it was almost impossible to determine what was genuine.

Morgana ignored his words. ‘As did you,’ she spoke softly. She began walking again until she was behind him again and he could no longer see her. The cold shivers returned instantly and the feeling of being in control vanished as rapidly as it had come. He went rigid when he felt her cold fingers trace the prison tattoos on his back. ‘ _Dum spiro spero_ ,’ she read. ‘Latin, I take it?’ The tone came as a surprise to him, as came the change of topic. It was almost as if they were discussing the weather now, but Merlin had already warned him that this woman was unpredictable.

‘While I live, I hope,’ he translated. He could not even begin to think how many times he had silently recounted those words in his head, holding onto them as if they were the only thing in the world still keeping him alive. And maybe they were. Lucas knew he had been close to putting an end to his misery several times. He had only gone through with it once – and that attempt had obviously not been successful – but all the other times he had just in time reminded himself that there was still a chance, no matter how small, that someone would come to his rescue as long as he was still alive. And so he had pushed through and kept himself alive until at long last he had been handed back to Harry. _While I live, I hope_.

‘How very… brave,’ Morgana commented, her finger finishing its tracing of the _spero_. ‘But you see, Lucas, I do have a problem now. You failed to deliver Arthur Pendragon to me.’

‘Shame,’ he remarked dryly. ‘Whatever will you think of now?’ This was a provocation and he knew it was dangerous, foolish even, to do it, but he needed to show her some strength, if only to convince himself that he could handle this. And with every drop of water that landed on his head he felt his resolve not to break down lessen. She must know of his fear of water. This was too much of a coincidence. And he did not believe in coincidence any more than he believed in the tooth fairy.

‘Oh, I do have my ways, you see.’ Her fingers left his skin and that was a relief in and out of itself. ‘Thanks to your new friend I can’t go walking into your Thames House anymore. It would seem that Merlin has tampered with the shields around that building, so you see I can’t just transport my way in there anymore.’

‘That was the general idea,’ Lucas countered. He knew what she was asking of him, and he knew he was never going to give it.

Morgana came to stand in front of him. ‘That’s where you come in.’ Her voice was calm and somehow all the more dangerous for it. ‘You can tell me how to get in. And you will tell me, or I’ll make you wish you had never been born.’

But Lucas had heard that threat too often already. It had stopped frightening him a long time ago. And he would never say a word to her, because the moment he started spilling the beans, he would die. And every moment he held out was a moment longer for his colleagues to come and find him. _While I live, I hope_.

The witch didn’t need to hear a denial to know that he was giving her one. She walked over to a box that was standing on a table some paces away from them. Upon opening it revealed a tiny snake, the kind one might crush underneath one’s shoes when encountering it in a field. That threw him off balance for a minute. He had experienced most ways of torture mankind had invented over the last eight years, but this was a novelty, even to him. Yet he also knew that this was unlikely to be good news to him, if Morgana’s smirk was anything to go by.

‘Do you know what this is?’ she asked.

‘A snake,’ he replied. No matter how much he tried to prevent it, a shiver went down his spine and the fear seeped through in his voice. _God, not again. Please not again!_ He knew it was a weakness and if he would let himself he would beg her not to do this to him. But that was something he could not, would not give into. He had survived Russia. He would survive this.

‘It’s a Nathair,’ Morgana said in a relaxed conversational voice. ‘Harmless enough most of the time, but with a little persuasion it can cause a man pain beyond all imagining.’ The smirk widened, if that was even possible.

But he could deal with that. He could handle pain. He had done that for eight years and he had never broken. It would be hard, but not impossible. He could do this.

Lucas controlled his breathing and met Morgana’s eyes evenly. Surely she would have him begging for mercy before long, but he would not give her the satisfaction of having the information she was seeking.

Her low chuckle caught him off guard. ‘Oh, you think you can handle the pain, don’t you? But this isn’t just an ordinary snake, Lucas. He will cause you pain in your very soul. Not even you with all your experience will be able to endure.’ She laughed as she saw the expression of fear that must have flashed across his face. ‘So, you have a choice, Lucas. Tell me how to get into Thames House, or sample the delights of my little friend here.’

The water was still trickling down his back, Russia was tugging at the edges of his mind and Morgana’s threats made him want to scream and beg already, but he could not do it. He had never betrayed MI-5. He would not start now. _Colleagues are okay_.

He met her eyes in defiance.

That was all the answer Morgana needed. She started to chant in a strange language that Lucas could not for the life of him understand. But he knew what she was doing the moment she brought the Nathair to his neck to let it bite him. His resolve crumbled into dust in less than a second and then Lucas North screamed.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

 

The atmosphere in the meeting room was one of nervous anticipation. Arthur could feel it with all of them. Jo was playing with a sheaf of papers, mindlessly drawing meaningless pictures on it while she waited. Ben was tapping on the table, earning him some of the infamous Ros Myers stares, but he didn’t seem to notice. Connie and Malcolm were seemingly calm, even though the latter was sitting on the edge of his seat, looking rather on edge himself. The Section Chief had slipped back behind the Ice Queen mask, as some of the team members called it behind her back. She was leaning against the wall, hands shoved down her pockets, an angry scowl on her face. Harry’s face was made to match, it would seem. The head of the section was seated at the head of the table, file in front of him, eyes fixed on the door.

All in all this made Arthur think of some kind of tribunal about to judge a dangerous criminal for his offences. And maybe that wasn’t too far off the mark, because here they were, waiting for the guards to bring Bob Hogan in so that they could learn what he knew about Arthur’s half-sister.

Arthur tried to remember what he knew of the man. Most of his information had come from the file he had studied so fervently he could almost literally dream its contents. Hogan had started out with the CIA long ago, had made quite a name for himself until he was nearing his retirement, when things began to get rather unclear. All he knew was that Hogan had sold out several MI-5 officers to a criminal organisation that tortured them for information and sold that information to interested people. One of those officers, someone called Zafar Younis, had died at the hands of that group.

After that sorry affair the former CIA officer should have gone to jail, so, as Ros eloquently had phrased it, naturally that had not happened at all, leaving Hogan to form an alliance with Morgana. From what Arthur had heard they were made for one another. Both were equally cold and ruthless.

His memories of the man were few, but he recalled a rather plump, elderly man with cold eyes and a smile that rivalled Lucas’s for creepiness. He was not physically very strong, Arthur assumed, but he was very intelligent, which was why it would be so difficult and tricky to convince him that they were genuine about the offer they were making, especially since they weren’t.

But the time for thinking was over now. The doors slid open and two guards accompanied Bob Hogan in. The American’s hands were still cuffed in front of him, but that was not the first thing Arthur saw. It was the expression in the man’s eyes that sent chills down his spine, and not in a good way, not at all. He looked triumphant, as if he was the laughing winner rather than the loser in this game.

‘Bob, how nice to meet the real you again,’ Harry said pleasantly. ‘Sit down.’

The friendly tone at least seemed to take the American off guard. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. ‘What’s your game, Harry?’

‘We have a deal for you,’ the head of the section told him.

This sparked Hogan’s interest. ‘I got the feeling your Section Chief didn’t really like that notion.’ The smirk made Arthur want to hit him. Hard.

Ros however remained perfectly calm. ‘Yeah, well maybe you’re just not as important enough to gamble with the life of my colleague,’ she countered. ‘Must be an unknown thing to you, I’d imagine.’

If she had been trying to get on his nerves, she had succeeded very well. The look in Hogan’s eyes was positively murderous, something Ros clearly pretended not to see. ‘So, now you are offering to let me go?’ There was some wariness in his voice and maybe that was a logical thing to be doing, since Section D was certainly offering exactly that, but they would absolutely not deliver on it.

‘The thing is, Bob, we’ve got to choose between two evils,’ Ros explained. ‘Your government is…. shall we say less than pleased about you endangering the special relationship between our two countries. You’ve made them look like fools and they’re not about to offer you tea and cookies once they get you back. And they will get you back, because our politicians are quite anxious about mending the relationship after this unfortunate blip.’

If Arthur had not known she was lying, he would never have known that she was. Ros Myers was good at this little game, very good. He would have bought her story himself. Based on what he knew about politics in this time – and Connie had forced quite a few lessons on him, since he was still pretending to be a liaison officer – this was something that could have actually happened. The only reason why it had not was because Harry had conveniently forgotten to mention the fact that they had also captured Hogan and the fact that the Americans had not taken their complaints to the British government. And they would not do such a thing, because if they did, then their involvement in the bombings would soon be all over the news and apparently their image was something worth protecting at all costs. They could not keep it from Blake indefinitely, but hopefully long enough for this to work.

Ros’s smirk became downright creepy as she continued after a short silence, so that Hogan could think about what that would mean for him if he was handed back to his “rightful owners” as Harry had called them. ‘If however you were to tell us everything you knew about Morgana and her plans, we might just be able to get you out of the country before your old friends come banging at the door.’

Hogan smirked. ‘What makes you think I will accept that offer, Myers?’ he demanded. ‘For all I know my country just lets me walk free again.’ He was all too confident, Arthur observed. And that was usually a bad thing. ‘I think I’ll take my chances.’

He was not taking the bait, Arthur could tell. Either he sensed this was a trick or he truly believed that the United States would treat him better than Britain would, but whichever of those two it was, he was not going to part with his secrets.

And so the king of Camelot stepped in. ‘Of course my allies might then decide to hand you over to me,’ he said casually, slipping back into the skin of Aidan Parker, the way Lucas had taught him to. Only now he could use the persona, but retain his own name. It was strangely exciting to do so, really, but he could get away with it. Hogan knew next to nothing about the real Arthur Pendragon, except for what he had seen at the barn and that, he would admit, was not much to go on. He might have jumped to the conclusion that Arthur was at least a little bit violent and that was the angle they might just need to get this man talking. ‘Torture might be forbidden in this kingdom, but it’s not in mine,’ he pointed out. There was absolutely no need to burden this man with the knowledge that he actually never really tortured anyone. ‘You don’t look like the type to last long in an intense interrogation to me.’

Merlin seemed to catch on to what he was doing. ‘Won’t take half a day, I think, Arthur.’ He too now leaned against a wall, pretending to be a cold, heartless bastard, as Ros called it. Keep this up and both of them would one day end up as real spooks. They really had spent too much time around these people if they were already copying their manners. ‘He was already crying like a baby when Ros accidentally spilled some coffee into his lap.’

At least this little display succeeded in wiping that far too annoying smirk off Hogan’s face. Arthur could see him struggle with himself, wondering if he should treat this as the truth or as the lie that it really was.

‘So, there you have it, Bob,’ Harry said. He was leaning in his chair as if this was nothing more important than today’s weather, as if not Lucas’s life depended on how soon they could get this information from the American.

Arthur admired him for that. Knowing Morgana as he did, he knew she’d not waste time in doing God knows what to the Senior Case Officer. She had always been ruthless, even when she had still been on the side of Camelot. She acted on impulses and right now she would no doubt be very angry for what Lucas had done. Being the deranged woman that she was, it didn’t take an expert to establish that she would take that anger out on the man responsible for the failure of her plans. And Arthur was in no hurry to let that happen. When everyone had given up on him, only Ros and Arthur had kept faith in him. In some strange way Lucas had become one of his men then, someone he was responsible for. It would be his duty to get him back to safety, as soon as possible.

‘Three scenarios,’ Harry went on, still perfectly relaxed. ‘You choose.’

Hogan’s eyes narrowed again, sending a perfectly deadly glare in Harry’s direction. ‘You’re not planning at all on giving me back to the CIA now, are you?’

Ros smiled. ‘Well, as you said, they might just let you walk free again. Understandably we are not in a hurry to let that happen again, so…’ She let her voice trail off, leaving Hogan to connect the dots himself.

‘You bitch,’ he growled in the end.

‘Your choice, Bob,’ she gently reminded him again. ‘Choose wisely.’

Hogan thought for a moment, weighing his options, not that there was much to weigh in Arthur’s opinion. It was either take the deal or choose certain death. And this man didn’t strike him as someone who would willingly go to the grave to protect his secrets. And he was proven right. ‘A passport, money and safe passage…’

‘… To a country with no extradition treaty with the UK or US,’ Ros finished with every appearance of boredom. ‘Yes, we’ve all heard that before, thank you very much.’

‘Take it or leave it,’ Harry added.

‘Show me the passport,’ Hogan demanded. He was uncomfortable now. The American was an intelligent man. He would know exactly how tight the spot was he now found himself in.

Harry nodded at Jo and she pushed a passport across the table. Harry had insisted that they make one, clearly anticipating this.

Hogan picked it up and studied it. ‘And the money?’ he asked.

‘Deliver first,’ Ros said. The smile had gone from her face and she was back in full Ice Queen mode. ‘Tell us where Morgana is and we’ll give it to you. Tell us everything else and we might even let you go.’

There clearly was some bad blood between these two, but Arthur would not know what exactly had caused that. It was some kind of secret – classified information was what these people called it – and no one seemed prepared to tell him much, although it would be a safe bet to say that it had something to do with the Section Chief’s betrayal, that kept being mentioned by Dolby and the CIA.

The American scowled at her. ‘Was that how you bought your way back in here?’

Ros ignored him. ‘Start talking, Hogan. I’ve never been the most patient woman around and I can still choose to hand you over to Arthur.’

‘Then you won’t get to your colleague in time, Myers.’ The man’s face was totally blank, as was Ros’s now. There was just no telling what either of them was thinking.

‘Or I can just ask Merlin nicely to put a spell on you that will loosen your lips,’ the Section Chief countered immediately. ‘And then you can kiss your deal goodbye.’

Hogan’s eyes told them that he would like to do nothing more than to kill her on the spot, but he really did not have a choice in this at all, and he was bound to know that. ‘What do you want to know, then?’ The tone was filled with bravado, but not a single occupant of the meeting room was fooled. This was a defeat. They had won.

‘Morgana, where is she?’ Arthur barked at the man. Good grief, had he not been beating around the bush too long already?

Hogan’s gaze now settled on him. ‘She has some kind of house in the woods of Camelot. Small valley, only two ways to get there.’

Merlin’s face looked like he had just had an important realisation. And that was a fact that had not escaped Ros’s attention either. ‘Spit it out already,’ she commanded him. ‘You look like you’ve just had the Holy Spirit revealed to you.’

‘I know where that is,’ the warlock informed them. He seemed to have forgotten completely about the American’s presence here.

Arthur momentarily did too. Relief and confusion were warring for dominance. How on earth did Merlin know where Morgana lived and why had he not made mention of that sooner? ‘You do?’ he asked incredulously.

When all this was over they would need to sit down and talk, properly. Arthur already knew that it would be unwise to keep up this childish fight they had for the last twenty-four hours. Harry had been right: it would jeopardise this operation and if he was really honest, he did not want to lose his friend entirely. Arthur had not missed out on how guilty Merlin felt about this morning’s debacle. Before now he had been too angry and frustrated to care about his servant’s state of mind, but the anger had all but died away now. In the end Merlin had only been meaning to protect Arthur, even if he went about it in all the wrong ways. Now that would make for an interesting topic of conversation.

Merlin nodded impatiently. ‘Yes, but that’s not the point. It’s going to be very tricky to bring in the cavalry there.’

Jo frowned. ‘Why? Because it is somewhere in Camelot, you mean?’

Merlin shook his head. ‘No. Her hovel is at the bottom of the valley and there are only two narrow paths leading down there. She will see us coming long before we can get to her and then she’ll just magic her way out of there.’

Ros’s face managed to convey the message perfectly that she did not like this piece of information at all. ‘We’ll deal with that,’ she all but snapped. ‘Now, how did Morgana become aware of the portal?’

That was actually a good question. Arthur had been wondering about that himself. He had come across it by chance, as had the spooks. Would the same be true for Morgana? Would she too just accidentally have come across the portal? It seemed a bit of a long shot, but he had long since stopped thinking about anything as impossible. He had too often seen the impossible happening right in front of him. As it turned out, impossible seemed to be non-existent where Camelot was concerned, or Morgana.

Hogan’s smirk told him that he would not like the answer to that question at all. And he didn’t. ‘She didn’t find it,’ he informed them. ‘She created it.’

 

***

 

There was a moment of silence in the meeting room as everyone processed this piece of information, but then Ros found her tongue again. ‘I beg your pardon?’ she hissed.

Well, even as she demanded more information from Hogan she already knew that she was not too surprised about this revelation. After all, in a strange way it would make sense. The Section Chief had come to accept magic as something that apparently existed, something they needed to deal with from now on. Consequently it would make sense if someone with magic would have created the portal that now linked the ancient kingdom of Camelot to the modern kingdom of Britain, because there were no other means available to pull off such a feat. Merlin was ruled out as a culprit, since he had obviously not known what was going on at the time and no one could act that well, not even the legendary Merlin himself.

But Morgana had been active in Britain long before Section D had first encountered Arthur and his merry knights. It was logical to think that she was the one responsible for creating the bloody portal in the first place.

‘Why?’ she demanded.

But it was Merlin that answered the question and not the American. ‘She must have seen something in her dreams,’ he understood. ‘She’s a seer. She can see the future in her dreams.’ The warlock looked pensive, a look that, Ros decided, did not quite suit him.

But at least this had Hogan nodding his confirmation. ‘The Lady Morgana was very interested in explosives,’ he informed them.

‘And in comes Al-Qaeda to demonstrate, with a little persuasion from you of course,’ Connie finished. The intelligence analyst had a look of pure disgust on her face and Ros found she shared the sentiment.

‘That you could get your revenge on Section D in the same go was just an added bonus,’ the Section Chief added wryly. Because that was why Hogan was doing this. It was all about revenge with him. They had never had any trouble at all sounding out his motives. Those had always been rather easy to guess. It was Morgana who had remained a mystery to them, but now all pieces of the puzzle seemed to fall effortlessly into place, letting them look at a bigger picture that fit perfectly and that was at the same time alarming.

If Merlin was right, then Morgana, being the seer that she was, had seen Hogan in her dreams – of all the things to dream of – and had figured that they could help one another. If she knew the former CIA officer at all it would not have been much of an effort to convince him to help her. Lucas had reported that the American had been overly interested in Morgana’s powers. The two had been made to be allies.

No doubt the witch would think the explosives available in the twenty-first century a good way to try and conquer Camelot with. She might even have a point with that, because Ros seriously doubted that the knights of Camelot would have something to answer that with. Of course things had changed as soon as Morgana had learned that her archenemy was actually in London as well. Why bother with explosives when one has one’s enemy within reach?

No, it was all painfully clear now. She had heard everything she wanted to hear and the rest she could easily fill in herself. Hogan had given them what they needed most and if it was up to her, they would waste no more valuable time on this man.

‘That’s sick,’ Jo muttered.

That about summed it up to perfection in Ros’s opinion. ‘Indeed. Now, if you’d excuse us, we have serious business to attend,’ she told Hogan with her most threatening smile. ‘You have been most helpful.’

He suspected trouble now. ‘Where’s my money?’

‘Not here,’ she informed him cheerfully. ‘Now, can someone take this waste of space back to the cells?’

Bob Hogan was not a fool. He knew he was being played for a fool the moment the words left her mouth. ‘We had a deal!’ he protested loudly.

‘Diddums,’ she reacted. _You had a deal with Adam too, but when the time came you turned on him without sparing it a second thought. About bloody time you get a taste from your own medicine._

Hogan now turned to Harry, realising that Ros was not going to give in to him. ‘You promised!’ There was a hint of fear now in his voice as well, even as he skilfully masked it by righteous indignity.

But, as the Section Chief already knew, Harry could not care less about promises made and broken either. ‘We lied,’ he said, wholly unconcerned. ‘Ben, Jo, if you would? I would advise you to go willingly, Bob. We wouldn’t want to burden internal security with something as embarrassing as that, now, would we?’ His tone was as if he was addressing a stubborn toddler.

But at least Hogan didn’t make too much of a fuss. He had been a player as well and he was clever enough to realise when he had lost. Like Kachimov had said when they finally got their hands on him: _I bow to the better player_. And in this case MI-5 was the laughing winner. It made Ros feel much better about herself.

But this was not the time to start doing a happy dance around the room already. Lucas was still in Morgana’s merciless hands and there was still the minor problem of having to get him out of her claws without her doing a runner again. She could do without a second barn debacle.

Arthur had recognised this problem too. A deep frown had found its way onto his forehead as he posed the question of how to get into Morgana’s bloody hovel without her noticing.

‘Bringing in the cavalry is out of the question,’ Harry spoke up. ‘I’m not looking forward to explaining that to the Home Secretary. We have him almost on a heart attack already.’

Personally Ros could not care less about the Home Secretary’s state of health and she was just about to say so when she recalled that Merlin had said that bringing in the cavalry was an impossibility anyway, because Morgana would apparently see them coming long before they got there.

‘Well, Merlin,’ Arthur suddenly said. ‘You seem to be such an expert on the subject of breaking into Morgana’s hovel. Maybe you could tell us how you managed it?’ There was still an underlying tone that told everyone with ears that the king of Camelot still was less than pleased with his manservant.

But the idea was not half bad, Ros had to admit. The warlock seemed to have done this before and it would be rather foolish not to learn from his expertise, no matter how reluctant she was to do so. But she also knew that this reluctance was the result of her dislike of Merlin as a person and that was not supposed to be clouding her judgement in this. _So get a sodding grip, Myers. If you don’t, then Lucas will pay for it._

Merlin however looked rather sheepish all of a sudden. ‘I disguised myself as Dragoon the Great and waited until she left before I got in.’

And that plan had no chance of working, the Section Chief knew instantly. As long as Morgana had Lucas in there, she would most likely not leave her hovel out of her own free will. And even if she did, they could not afford to wait. Lucas could already be dead and every second they wasted here now made the chance only greater that he would die before they could get to him.

‘Then we’ll have to draw her out,’ Arthur said, shrugging. ‘We’ll give her a bait she cannot refuse and then we can go in, get Lucas and be out before she comes back.’

And that plan was not half bad either. She gave herself a mental scolding for not thinking about this earlier. ‘That’s not such a bad plan,’ she heard herself say.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. ‘What kind of bait will she need?’ The question was directed at Arthur.

The king thought about that question for approximately five seconds. ‘Me,’ he then said matter-of-factly.

Now that wiped the approving look off Harry’s face right away. ‘Are you quite certain you do not have some kind of death wish, Arthur Pendragon?’ He was talking as one would do to a disobedient officer.

Arthur however was wholly unconcerned. ‘She won’t come out for anything or anyone else,’ he pointed out. ‘She has wanted me for years. And perhaps she will suspect it’s a trap when I come walking right past her house, but she will still be unable to resist the temptation.’

There was entirely too much logic in those words. Ros too had her doubts about the existence of self-preservation in the king’s character – so far he had proven willing to lay down his life as soon as he’d think others were saved with it – but she also knew that this was most likely the only thing that would work. And the clock was ticking for Lucas. They could not afford to wait any longer, waste precious time on arguing and thinking up other plans.

She gave her ally a curt nod. ‘You’ll need to have proper back-up.’ It would seem the Home Secretary would still be getting a heart attack then. Or Harry would just spin him another story. Ros could not really care about which one it was going to be as long as the result was that she got the back-up she wanted.

Even as Arthur favoured her with a grateful smile, Harry’s head swivelled in her direction, the disbelief written all over it. ‘Not you as well!’ he complained.

‘He’ll have constant back-up,’ she reasoned. ‘He’ll be perfectly bloody safe.’ The impatience was starting to win out now. Had Harry forgotten that Lucas was still out there? There wasn’t a problem with this plan as long as Arthur had back-up. Good grief, he had even proposed this in the first place. He would know what risks he wanted to take.

But Merlin had also turned into the very image of disapproval. ‘I don’t like it.’

Small wonder that. But it did trigger her temper. ‘Then go and get your bloody priorities sorted, will you?’ she snapped at him, the tone so venomous that the warlock unconsciously slunk back into his seat, giving her no small measure of grim satisfaction. ‘Lucas’s life is at stake here and now I know that no other lives than Arthur’s seem to matter anything at all to you, but he is your colleague now and I am still your superior officer for the time being. You will do as you’re told.’ She had not really meant to pull rank on him, but she did need to get him in line. All his petty complaints about Arthur’s safety were getting on her nerves. The king was a grown man, perfectly capable of making his own choices. And she could not escape the notion that he was also ten times braver than his manservant.

Fortunately Arthur was with her on that one. ‘Will you just shut up, _Mer_ lin?’ he asked irritably. ‘You’re not going to stop me from doing this and if you feel you cannot help us do this, you’re perfectly welcome to stay back while we go and solve the problem.’

Merlin seemed to regard that as a challenge. Instantly his jaw was set and the cold look was back in his eyes as well. ‘Fine,’ he snapped. ‘But don’t come running to me when everything goes wrong.’

Arthur gave a bark of laughter. ‘I really should have made you court jester, shouldn’t I?’

Harry’s fist collided with the table, putting an end to the bantering. ‘Focus, people!’ he bellowed. ‘Arthur will lure Morgana out, but we will need someone to go in there and get Lucas out of that bloody place.’ At least he seemed to have seen sense, for which Ros was grateful.

‘I’ll go.’

Ros and Merlin exchanged incredulous looks as they realised that they had spoken simultaneously. For her it was not even a question that she would do this. Lucas was her colleague. He relied on her. They were good colleagues too, maybe even bordering on friends. Neither of them had any friends, but Ros was wondering more and more if perhaps with Lucas she could be friends. _Better not go there again, Myers_ , she reprimanded herself. _Friends only annoy you._

She snapped herself out of it, shooting a questioning look in Merlin’s direction. ‘You?’ she asked with all the disbelief and contempt that she could muster.

It had only been one word, but it had definitely succeeded in enraging the warlock. ‘You need someone who knows Morgana’s hovel,’ he pointed out. ‘I’ve been there before. You’ll need me.’

Ros arched an eyebrow. ‘Are you now proposing we go in together?’ she demanded. She sincerely hoped not. Of course she knew that going in there alone wasn’t even an option. She would need at least one other officer to go in with her. In her head that would be either Ben or Jo, and preferably not the former, since he still seemed to believe she had a love of betrayal which made the working relationship at least slightly awkward. But she would much rather go in with Ben than with Merlin. The junior officer at least had brains. Merlin did not appear to be too gifted in that department. And to think that she used to think that he was the clever one. _Definitely the paranoid one_.

Merlin didn’t seem too pleased with his own idea, but he met her eyes and nodded. ‘If Morgana comes back unexpectedly, you’ll need someone with magic to hold her off.’

That would have made sense, Ros admitted, had she not just seen with her own eyes that Merlin was anything but capable of putting those powers of his to good use. He may talk and talk about how his magic would be able to protect them, but when it came to Morgana he could, for some reason far beyond her comprehension, just not act. It was like he had been frozen into place back there in the barn.

‘I think we’ve already seen how skilled you are in holding off Morgana,’ she sneered.

There was a look in the warlock’s eyes now that would have made her drop dead on the spot if looks had that power. ‘I _can_ do this,’ he insisted. ‘I won’t fail this time. You have my word.’

But the Section Chief did not have too much faith in Merlin’s word. Somehow he still had some soft spot for Morgana. There was just no telling what he would do when confronted with the witch. Ros had seen a mixture of guilt, regret, anger and compassion in that barn. The warlock was at least conflicted where his enemy was concerned and, had he not had magic, she would never have let him anywhere near this operation, because this attitude could compromise everything. He was too emotionally close to this case and in any normal situation she would never allow any officer to work on such an operation. But this was the legendary bloody Merlin with his bloody magic and it would seem that the normal rules did not at all apply to him.

Harry was looking rather sceptical, but he was nodding slowly. Because Ros might hate the notion with a passion, but he did have a good point. When it came to it her gun was about as much use against that witch as a toy pistol. Morgana had deflected the bullet Ros had sent in her direction seemingly without effort. She would need someone to help her, someone with magic, just in case Morgana came back early.

‘And Morgana is still afraid of me,’ Merlin added after a lengthy silence.

Now that was something Ros seriously doubted. ‘After that display in the barn?’ she said as dismissively as possible.

There was a quick flash of something, possibly shame, on Merlin’s face, but then his face split in the widest grin the Section Chief had ever seen. ‘I still have my disguise as Dragoon the Great,’ he reminded them. ‘And Morgana won’t recognise me if I’m eighty years old.’

Maybe that clumsy warlock wasn’t such an idiot after all.


	34. Chapter 34

Lucas had lost all sense of time. He had no idea how long he was here already, but he guessed it was less than a day, but more than twelve hours. It was dark now outside and he had been brought here when there still had been daylight. But he could not be sure entirely. He had lost consciousness several times since the torture had begun. It had been a cycle of being bitten by that pet snake of Morgana, screaming in pure agony because of the hellish pain the venom of that beast induced, passing out when the pain became too much for a human being to endure and waking up when Morgana threw another bucket of water right in his face before the torture began anew.

His throat was hoarse from the screaming and his entire body ached, twisting and turning from time to time in spasms that were the aftereffects of the snake’s poison. He was still chained to the ceiling and by now his wrists were red and even bleeding slowly from having his weight hung on those iron chains every time he passed out.

He had not known what to expect from Morgana’s torture methods, but some part of his mind had told him that it could not possibly be worse than the things his Russian interrogators had put him through. He had soon be proven wrong on that account. The snake, the Nathair, had made him feel pain the likes of which he had never experienced before. And worse than the pain, which he had come to learn to bear over eight years of being in physical pain for almost all the time, were the flashbacks it caused. It was as if he had been dragged back into his own personal nightmare in which his FSB tormentors warred for dominance with the distrust of his colleagues, Harry’s disappointed expression and Elizabeta’s desertion. All this left him screaming, begging for mercy. He was aware that Morgana asked questions, but even if he wanted to answer them, he just couldn’t do anything else than scream.

Unconsciousness had become a blessing, something to look forward to, but it never lasted long. Morgana would always wake him by throwing water into his face, triggering flashbacks of the waterboarding sessions right away. As it turned out she had not been aware of his fear of water before she had begun to torment him, but she had soon found out. There was just no way he could control his reactions around water, not so soon after Russia. And the witch had taken a pleasure in the panic she caused him, sometimes splashing water in his face for what felt like hours at a time in an attempt to get him to talk, before she returned to her snake again and the whole cycle began again.

So when he slowly started to come around for what surely must be the hundredth time, Lucas expected the water or the pain. But neither of them came. His body ached and twisted in spasms of cold and after pains, but in comparison to the other torture the witch had put him through, it was nothing at all. In Russia he had learned to ignore these minor pains. Had he not he would have died long ago. And Lucas North clung to life, hoping and praying that Harry Pearce would come and get him out before he died as a result of his injuries. _While I live, I hope._

For a moment he hoped that sometime between his passing out and his coming around Section D had barged into the hovel, had killed Morgana and transferred Lucas to the nearest hospital, but he knew that was not what had happened the moment he felt he was still hanging from the roof.

But something had changed. In prison he had learned that this could either be good or bad. Sometimes his interrogators had other more pressing business to concern themselves with or they were thinking up something that was even more terrible than what they had done to him before. Most of the time it had been the latter, but yet he always hoped it was the first. Being forgotten about was always preferable just after a torture session.

Slowly he became more aware of his surroundings. He had his eyes still closed, but he could hear voices some distance away from him, one of them male, one of them female. The female voice he could identify immediately. He had heard Morgana’s voice enough to know it when he heard it.

The male voice was the trickier one. Lucas was one hundred percent certain he had never heard this one before in his life. And that was bad. Sometimes in Russia they would bring in a new interrogator to try and get him to talk when all other things seemed to have failed. His heart was already beating faster when he realised that Morgana, being on the run and in hiding from the patrols from Camelot, was in absolutely no position to bring in another interrogator. Not that she needed to anyway. The witch appeared to be very skilled at the art herself.

He could all too clearly recall Harry Pearce’s words when they had spoken in his office. _Morgana is one dangerous witch_ , the head of the section had said. Lucas remembered shrugging it away. Back then he had felt like he was on top of this operation and his boss’s lack of faith in his abilities had hurt him more than he was ready to admit even to himself.

But now, weakened by Morgana’s idea of hospitality, chained to the leaking roof of her hovel, he had to admit that Harry may have made a far more realistic assessment of the situation than he himself had done. He had seen what Morgana was capable of in that barn and he had still underestimated her. By now he should have known that was the worst sin an officer in the field could ever commit.

But the man in the room was still unknown to him, as was the voice. But he sure was excited, or anxious about something. Lucas could not bring himself not to listen in on their conversation. Weak and chained up he might be, but he was still a spook. Their lot just couldn’t help themselves. They had a need to know.

‘The time to strike is now, Morgana,’ the man said. By the sound of it he was trying to persuade Morgana to do something. He sounded both excited and desperate at the same time, leading the Senior Case Officer to believe that his attempts to convince Morgana had been unsuccessful thus far. ‘Camelot is ripe for the taking. Arthur sent a message that he has gone away for some time and there’ll be no telling when he will return.’ The man’s voice rose with every word he spoke. ‘The council is eating out of my hand now. If you were to invade today, the throne would be yours.’

It was only then that Lucas fully registered _what_ it was that this man was saying. His thoughts were still blurry, but it helped to actually use his mind for something useful. It cleared his thoughts and banished the physical pain to the back of his mind, allowing him to overlook his discomfort and focus on the operation.

Because that was what this was. It may not be an official operation – Harry had most certainly not authorised this – but if he was in a position to obtain valuable information then he would be a fool not to take this opportunity. There was after all still a chance that his colleagues would learn his location and would come barging in at a moment’s notice. _Colleagues are okay_. They had proven that before and he had to keep faith that it was still true. And while he was still alive, he would keep on hoping that they would find him and bring him home. Because if he could not hold on to that belief, he was as good as dead already.

So he forced his eyes open, trying to see who he was dealing with here. There were two people in the room. One of them he could identify as Morgana right away. She was still in the same dress that she had been in when Lucas had first met her. In all that time she had never even worn something else, leading the spook to wonder whether she just had the one dress. It would make sense, he supposed, taken into account that she was in hiding and had obviously not a lot of money to spend. For a royal she was remarkably poor. But what she lacked in money, she made up for in determination.

Her companion was a man who age wise could have been her father. He was relatively tall – although Lucas believed that he would still be taller than the stranger – with dark hair. He had his back turned on Lucas, so there wasn’t much to be seen. His clothing was dark, at least his trousers and cloak, which was all he could see for now.

Based on what he had said Lucas had no trouble whatsoever establishing that this was the traitor Merlin had mentioned that first night he had been in London, the traitor they needed Section D to catch. His breath caught in his throat. If either Morgana or her accomplice became aware of the fact that he was not as unconscious as they believed him to be, there would be hell to pay later, he was sure. Morgana might even decide to kill him right away to make sure Lucas could never tell his secrets to another living soul.

So yes, he knew that accomplices were something akin to a pay-as-you-go phone to Morgana: you bought them, you used them, you dumped them, after which you could buy yourself another. But it was obvious from what he had heard so far that a great deal of her schemes depended on this man and if he indeed had the council eating out of his hand, then that would explain why. This man was clearly not even anywhere near to outliving his usefulness and this witch would not risk this plan getting blown out of the water as well.

Lucas all but completely closed his eyes again, leaving just a narrow opening through which he could follow the proceedings without getting caught spying. It was hardly any effort at all. In Russia he had perfected the art, appearing unconscious in order to put off the torture as long as he possibly could. He kept his body still, head half down on his chest, giving every appearance of the passed out spook.

That was a good thing too, because Morgana chose that moment to turn around and cast a disapproving look in his direction. ‘You’re a fool, Agravaine,’ she told the traitor. ‘If we take Camelot now, then Arthur will remain free.’

‘We can find him later, my lady,’ Agravaine stressed. ‘And if we have Camelot in our power, we will have a strong basis from which we can strike out. We will have the power of an entire kingdom behind us.’

Agravaine. Lucas was sure he had heard that name before, but it took him some time before he could remember where he had heard it. But then he recalled Arthur saying to Merlin that Agravaine would take good care of the kingdom while he was away, using it as an argument as to why it was a good idea to stay in London and assist on the operation to bring down Morgana and Hogan.

Later he had asked Arthur who Agravaine was. He had heard the name before, but his memory stubbornly refused to provide him with the information he had been looking for. Arthur had informed Lucas that Agravaine was his mother’s brother, who had come to Camelot after Morgana’s treason and his father’s sickness to help Arthur lead the kingdom. The Senior Case Officer remembered Arthur speak of how much he appreciated the help his uncle offered him.

But his uncle wasn’t on his side at all now, was he? Because here he was, plotting to overthrow the kingdom with Morgana. And Arthur had no idea at all of what was going on. For all Lucas knew Agravaine was one of the few people the king of Camelot trusted unconditionally.

‘You are forgetting that the people will never accept me as their rightful queen as long as Arthur is still alive, my lord.’ Morgana dismissed the option without as much as a second thought, not unlike she had done when Lucas had pretended to want to torture Arthur for information. It confirmed what he already thought about her: other people’s opinions and ideas were not important at all to her. Only her ideas and opinions mattered. ‘As long as Arthur is alive they will never bow to me. They will always be ready to rise up against me at the smallest notion. We’ll need to kill Arthur first if we want to rule over Camelot. We must leave the people with no other alternative than me.’

Agravaine threw his hands into the air in exasperation. ‘My lady, we have no idea where Arthur is. We could be wasting a perfectly good opportunity!’ The excitement had left his voice entirely now.

But Morgana’s face twisted in a smirk that rivalled Ros’s most threatening look. She could as well have written _dangerous_ across her forehead. The result was the same. ‘Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong,’ she said. ‘I do know where my dear brother is hiding.’ Slowly, but purposefully she strode across the room towards Lucas and he forced himself to go completely still, hang in his chains even when every muscle and nerve protested against the maltreatment. Self-preservation won out. If Morgana discovered that he was not as unconscious as she believed him to be, he’d be dead. ‘And this man will lead me straight to him.’

He closed his eyes as she came to stand next to him. Morgana’s ice-cold fingers brushed across his cheek in an almost gentle gesture. It took him all he had not to shy away from the touch, to keep up the pretence that he was still unconscious. The witch’s hands moved to the tattooed eagle on his chest, her fingers following its shape. She had seemed fascinated by his prison tattoos before, probably because she had never seen them before, Lucas suspected. He had given her a clue that there was a hidden meaning to most of them by translating the _Dum spiro spero_ one for her, but she had not asked about it any further. He imagined she had more pressing concerns.

‘Who is he, my lady?’ Agravaine sounded curious as well as slightly suspicious.

‘My key to killing Arthur Pendragon,’ Morgana replied curtly. Interesting. She did not seem to want to let Agravaine know where he was from or in what way she believed Lucas could be useful to her. She was keeping secrets from her own ally. And if he ever got out of this hellhole, that might be an angle of interrogation worth pursuing. Because Lucas North may be opposed to physical torture, but he was definitely not above using emotional torture to get a suspect to talk. ‘He is just a bit loath to part with his secrets, but he will yield them to me, one way or another.’ There was something infinitely threatening about those words and the voice in which they were spoken and it took Lucas every bit of self-restraint that he possessed not to break his cover by shivering under her touch. That would give him away in an instant.

‘But, my lady, you cannot stay here much longer.’ Lucas had to keep his eyes closed, but he could hear the panic in the man’s voice. ‘Emrys already found you here once before. As soon as he learns that you are keeping the man you want to use to get to Arthur captive, he will surely come to his rescue!’

For Morgana these words might be bad news, but for Lucas they were like a breath of life, a flicker of hope in an otherwise dark situation. He recalled a conversation in the meeting room that felt like another life entirely, when Merlin had told them all he knew about Morgana, everything that could possibly be of use in their attempt to stop her from blowing countless more people to kingdom come. Merlin had told them that Morgana was terrified of his old man disguise, which Merlin himself called Dragoon the Great, but Morgana knew as Emrys. He had mentioned that he had duelled her not that long ago and that he had won. Agravaine’s words seemed to suggest that this duel had taken place right here.

Merlin knew of this place. And surely the warlock must have realised by now that Lucas was never a real traitor. He would know where to look for Morgana, even if no one else did. Help could already be on its way. And he would need to hold out until then. He knew he had to.

‘I will have to deal with this pathetic man first.’ Morgana’s grip on his arm tightened. She had been absent-mindedly tracing the tattooed chain on his arm, but clearly her ally’s words had enraged her in some way. ‘But rest assured, Agravaine. Once I have what I want from him I will move to the Isle of the Blessed. Not even Emrys would dare to attack me there.’

Lucas stored that name away for later use, keeping his mind on the dynamics of the conversation. If Agravaine’s sigh was anything to go by, he was less than pleased with that decision. But he otherwise kept his silence, indicating that he was not about to question his mistress’s decisions. That told the Senior Case Officer all he needed to know about this relationship and the hierarchy in it. Morgana was in charge here and Agravaine would have to do as she told him to.

He wondered what the witch did to keep the nobleman on side. It could not be money, since she didn’t seem to have any. He briefly considered a forced relationship, with Morgana using her magic to keep him under control, but he dismissed that thought almost right away. There was some affection, _genuine_ affection in Agravaine’s voice even if the feeling clearly wasn’t mutual. Could it really be that this traitor cared for this witch? Lucas found it hard to believe that anyone in his senses could harbour warm feelings for this woman, but he still had yet to meet anyone from this day and age who hated Morgana entirely. Even Arthur, who was so hell-bent on capturing Morgana and putting an end to her crimes, had not been able to look at her without regret.

Agravaine must think he had something to gain from allying himself with Morgana, the spook decided. What that was, was as of yet undecided, but it must be something big if he thought he would never get it from remaining on Arthur’s side.

‘As you wish, my lady,’ the traitor said in the end. It sounded remarkably like a submission to Lucas’s ears.

Morgana’s hand left Lucas’s skin and the spook almost exhaled in relief, but that was a mistake he would not be tempted to make. ‘Then you have your orders, my lord.’ It was a clear dismissal. ‘And you had better keep me informed of every single development, Agravaine,’ she added in a sharp tone. ‘Or else you’re more than welcome to take his place.’ She stabbed the eagle on Lucas’s chest with her finger.

‘My lady.’ It was an acknowledgement, a greeting and a confirmation all at once. Ten seconds later the spook could hear the door open.

The door was not even fully closed again before the next bucket of water hit Lucas straight in the face. The screaming replaced the logical analysing. He was back in hell again.

 

***

 

Arthur was kneeling behind some bushes, peering down into the small valley below. The sun had not yet risen above the horizon and the light was sparse in here. But he guessed that was nothing new here. This valley was so deep inside the forest, surrounded by tall trees and bushes. The king of Camelot didn’t think that any sunlight ever came down here. In a strange way it felt like a perfect hideout for the most dangerous witch Arthur had ever encountered.

Because that was what Morgana was. Up to the moment he had her cornered in that barn she had also been the sister he had grown up with, for who he felt a lingering affection, but he had seen the look of pure evil she had directed Merlin’s way when she had been threatening to take the king with her. And that had told Arthur everything he needed to know about her. The woman he had known was gone. Maybe she had been killed by Morgause’s brainwashing or maybe it had been her fear of persecution because of her powers that had forced her to become this cold and ruthless woman. Arthur didn’t know, but neither did he really care. Whatever it was that had made her like this, this was the woman, the witch they needed to deal with and the fact that she still had one of his men inside that hovel of hers was infinitely more important than Morgana’s motivations.

‘That’s it?’ the Section Chief asked.

Merlin nodded. ‘That’s it.’

Arthur was still startled by his servant’s changed appearance and voice. Merlin had come here in his old man disguise. It was one of the strangest thing Arthur had ever seen in his life. One moment it had been clumsy Merlin standing in the middle of the Grid, the next he spoke a spell and they all found themselves looking at this old man in red robes and a ridiculous long beard. And yet it was still Merlin. Now that he knew the younger – or now distinctively older – man’s secret, he really thought it should have been obvious all along. The eyes were still the same and when this older version of Merlin smiled, it was an exact copy of Merlin’s most mischievous grin. The manner of speaking was the same too, although Arthur had learned before that Merlin-in-old-man-disguise just blurted out everything that he wanted to say, in short, everything he could not say when not in disguise.

‘And you’re sure she is in there?’ Ros urged.

That gained her an annoyed look from the warlock. ‘I am not a seer,’ he protested. ‘And I can’t look through walls either.’ He was definitely boiling over with indignity.

‘Shame,’ Ros commented. The Section Chief had appeared singularly unimpressed by Merlin’s transformation. She still treated him with a mixture of wariness and resignation. She had taken Merlin’s failure to protect both Lucas and Arthur hard, harder than Arthur himself seemed to have done. Harry had called it Ros’s loyalty towards her team when Arthur had asked about it on their way back to Thames House from the Home Office. It was how she operated.

And it was an attitude Arthur recognised in himself. Had he not thought likewise then he would not be here now, risking his life to get Lucas out of that hovel in the valley below. Because he would indeed be risking his life. Harry had not seemed happy about it, but he also had to admit that there was no other way and so this operation had been authorised. Arthur would, accompanied by some CO19 men in disguise, move near the valley, making a lot of noise that would alert Morgana to their presence. The CO19 men were dressed up as Camelot knights, but with guns hidden underneath their cloaks, since everyone involved was convinced that they would be no good at all with swords and crossbows.

Arthur knew he should be nervous or a bit frightened, but he wasn’t. Once, some years ago, he had told Merlin that he didn’t get nervous. Now, that wasn’t true of course. He did get nervous, but not now. He could not afford to while Lucas was still in danger.

‘Are you quite sure that you can fight off Morgana in case she decided to come barging on?’ Ros asked sarcastically. Since the barn debacle she seemed to question Merlin’s abilities in general.

Merlin sent her a angry stare. ‘I did it before,’ he said indignantly.

‘Just not within my line of sight,’ the woman countered easily.

The alliance between those two was one of necessity. It did most certainly not mean that Ros had forgiven Merlin. Arthur even doubted that this particular word was in her vocabulary. Ros was a lot of things, but she was not the forgiving type.

The two of them would have carried on bickering had they not been distracted by the sounds coming out of Morgana’s hovel. They were screams of pure agony and Arthur had no problem whatsoever identifying the owner of the voice that made the screams. He remembered that one night he had stayed in Lucas’s flat vividly. When the spook had been dreaming he had screamed in a similar fashion. He had screamed as if someone was torturing him.

Arthur was quite sure that that was exactly what was happening to his new friend. The Senior Case Officer had never struck him as someone who would easily be persuaded to let others know that he was in pain. He was more prone to put on a calm façade, making everyone believe that he was perfectly at ease and relaxed. Or he would hide behind that smile that Merlin called creepy and threaten the other.

But there was no calm whatsoever. The cries coming from that hovel spoke of pain beyond imagining, of agony and desperation. The king of Camelot was not even sure he wanted to know what his half-sister must be doing to him to extract such sounds from the spook. He did however suspect that there would be a good deal of magic involved in whatever it was that she was doing.

It made bile rise in his throat. Less than pleased as he was with Merlin’s recent actions, he would not come back from his earlier assessment that magic could be used for good as well as evil. And Merlin may be a paranoid idiot when it came to Arthur’s safety, the king was quite certain that Merlin only used his powers to kill when there was no other choice. This, whatever it was that Morgana was doing right now, that was misuse of the gifts she had been given.

Arthur was by now seriously considering changing the laws concerning magic as a result of Merlin’s revelation, but this was enough to give him pause. How many of the sorcerers out there would be like Merlin and how many would be like Morgana? He feared the answer to that question.

If the pale colour of Ros’s face was anything to go by she too had realised what was going on. Her hands were clenched into fists. But her face was carefully wiped clean of every emotion, making it almost impossible to tell what she was thinking or feeling. In that first night Ben had informed him that Ros had ice-water in her veins rather than blood and in situations like this, Arthur tended to agree with him. It was her colleague, her friend as well if Arthur had guessed right, in there, but yet Ros’s reaction would never have told him that had he not known it already.

Merlin’s expression would best be described as horrified. For all his destiny to protect Arthur, he had never witnessed torture. He had killed, of that Arthur was convinced, even as he had been unable to get a straight answer out of him. But torture was another matter entirely. Arthur had never done that himself, but he had seen it done. As son of Uther Pendragon he had been forced to. He could deal with it, even as the thought was not exactly one he was comfortable with and he would avoid it if he could. Ros had doubtlessly tortured people herself. It was one of those things that Arthur really did not want to know. There were more than enough rumours swirling around about the Section Chief already, varying from killing someone with a fork to squeezing some poor man’s private parts in order to get him to talk. And Merlin had mentioned that she had thrown hot coffee in Hogan’s lap out of what appeared to be pure spite. The Section Chief too would be able to deal with the idea of people being tortured, even if she was passionately opposed to the notion of her colleague being the one that was tortured.

But Merlin was as innocent as a baby in that respect and Lucas’s cries of agony had him stare at his two companions in shock. ‘We should act now,’ he told them. There was a hint of accusation in his voice, the question as to why they had not yet done something clear as daylight in his eyes.

‘The cavalry will be here in five minutes,’ Ros reported. ‘We cannot go in before they arrive.’

The three of them had gone to scout the area and the back-up would follow them a quarter of an hour later. Without them it would be foolish to act and Arthur knew that. It would be suicide if he were to go in alone, but he wanted to, if only to end Lucas’s suffering. He had really come to consider the man a friend and having him go through what he was going through now set the king’s teeth on edge. He hadn’t felt as useless and powerless in quite a long time.

‘We can’t wait!’ Merlin protested, far too loud.

Ros was clearly about to lecture the warlock on protocol, a speech Merlin would never listen to, but the timely arrival of Arthur’s modern bodyguards in knight outfits saved her the necessity. And Arthur was grateful for it. The sooner they could go in, the better it would be.

Ros still ignored Merlin though, addressing Arthur instead. ‘You know what to do?’

Arthur snorted. They had gone over the plans until he could literally reproduce them in his sleep. ‘Of course I know. I’m not an idiot.’ _No matter what Merlin likes to think_.

The Section Chief didn’t seem to think this was worth replying to. Instead she nodded. ‘Good. Let’s get to it.’


	35. Chapter 35

 

He wasn’t nervous. He didn’t do nervous. He never got nervous. Arthur Pendragon forced himself to remember this. Unfortunately it did absolutely nothing to keep those treacherous nerves at bay as he stood at the entrance of the pathway that led down into the valley. Lucas’s screams had ceased for a while, but they had begun anew just as the king of Camelot and his men had taken their places.

 _It means he is still alive_ , Arthur reminded himself. It was a relief in a way. The screams meant that Lucas was still capable of making noise. The silence from just now had been equal parts relief and worry. Relief because that meant that whatever was going on in there had been stopped for a while, but worry because this could also very well mean that Lucas was gone. And that was a scenario Arthur did not want to face. Lucas had rescued him from Morgana’s clutches, risking his own life. It would be a horror if the spook died himself as a result of those actions.

His father had once told him that as a future king, this was something he had to get used to. But that was not the kind of king Arthur wanted to be. He would be the kind of king that risked everything for the sake of one of his men. It would not always be the wisest thing to do, but it would be the right thing to do and that had to be worth something.

Malcolm had equipped them with some high tech devices that did work where they were now. When Ros and Lucas had moved across the portal before, their comms had stopped working, so now he had to come up with something new to stay in contact. The technician’s explanation had consisted of many long words and Arthur had been glad to find that he was not the only one who had lost track of things after the first sentence. What mattered to him was that this worked. They would be able to communicate with the surveillance van Harry had insisted they drive into the forest as far as they could. It had been a bumpy ride, because Morgana’s residence was quite a few miles away from the portal. Arthur even believed they were closer to Camelot now than they were to Britain.

‘We’re in place, Control,’ Arthur reported to the small device that was hidden underneath his cloak. It was rather remarkable how soon he had copied the spooks’ way of communication. If he wasn’t careful he would soon start to apply them to the patrols with the knights. Now that would make some of them look at him as if he had lost his mind. Small consolation that some of the nobles in the council already thought that, so he wouldn’t damage his reputation too much.

‘Copy that, Alfa One,’ Connie’s brisk voice replied.

‘Do we have permission to go?’ Arthur asked. Asking someone’s permission to do anything was not like him and he had trouble getting the words out of his mouth in the first place, but he was not here as the king of Camelot. He was here as an officer of Section D and as such he would have to do as he was told, like it or not. And he wanted this operation to be successful, which was the only reason why he put up with that. Once Lucas was out things would hopefully get back to normal.

‘Permission granted,’ Connie told him. That must mean that Merlin and Ros were in place too. From where Arthur was standing he could not see them, but he knew they had to be at the other end of the valley, waiting for Morgana to be distracted so that they could slip in and get Lucas out.

‘Arthur?’ Harry’s voice spoke up.

‘Yes?’

‘No heroics, do you hear?’ The head of Section D sounded stern, as if he was reprimanding a disobedient child. ‘Pull out if it gets too dangerous.’

Arthur’s forehead wrinkled in disgust. ‘Then we waste every chance we have,’ he felt obliged to point out. And that would leave Lucas at Morgana’s mercy again. And that was something he would not stand for. They were here to rescue him and Arthur didn’t plan on leaving without the spook. They were here now and they would make this work. Lucas relied on them to get him out and Arthur would not let him down. His friend had seen enough of prisons in his life.

‘It’s an order,’ Harry said in his most commanding voice. ‘And it is non-negotiable. No heroics, Arthur.’

Telling Harry that he could stick that order where the sun didn’t shine would not be the wisest course of action, the king observed. But there were more ways to skin a cat and Ros had the perfect way of dealing with this sort of thing and there was no reason why he could not copy that. ‘Yeah,’ he replied, meaning quite the opposite. Harry knew this, no doubt. He must have heard his Section Chief do it time and again, but he did not comment on it, possibly because he knew it would be no good anyway.

Arthur gave a curt nod at the men he had with him. They had all signed the Official Secrets Act, preventing them from telling what they had seen and would see to the people back in Britain. Most of these men had been on the operation to take Morgana down in the barn as well. They knew who and what they were dealing with. They knew it was dangerous, but almost none of them was visibly nervous. That was either very courageous or very stupid in Arthur’s opinion. Last time these men had encountered Morgana almost all of them had been knocked unconscious within ten seconds and they had no hope that they would fare any better this time. But Arthur allowed himself to believe that these men were very brave, because the other option was no good whatsoever for his already frayed nerves.

‘Spread out!’ he yelled on top of his lungs. ‘Surround it!’ These were of course fake commands, but they would hopefully get Morgana’s attention.

Lucas was still screaming and the rest of the forest was still as silent as it had been before Arthur had shouting his commands, but he felt more than he knew that he had been heard. Merlin had been right about one thing: Morgana had grown rather paranoid over the last few years and she would not want to take any chances. If Merlin was right about her thinking that Emrys haunted her every step as well, then she should be suspecting the worst by now. The manservant had informed them that Morgana was quite convinced that Emrys was the one who thwarted each and every plan she came up with. And since she also believed him to be somehow in league with Camelot, it would make sense for her to suspect that Emrys had been the one to reveal the location Morgana’s secret hideout to Arthur. She would already be wary, aware of the possibility of being found out. Yet she had nowhere else to go now, so she had to come back to this place despite the risks.

But five minutes passed and nothing happened. Morgana did not show herself and Arthur started to doubt that she had even heard him in the first place. Lucas’s cries must be much louder in that hovel of hers than they were up here. Maybe it was impossible for her to hear him. Maybe he should wait till the screaming stopped before he tried again, but that notion was rather disgusting to him. It meant that for now at least he accepted that his friend was in pain. He could not do that.

‘Move out!’ he shouted, meaning it this time. That was not in the script and he could already hear Harry’s incoherent protests sputtering in his right ear, but he ignored the spy. Maybe what Morgana needed was to see him. Well, if that was the case, if that was what it took to draw her out, then that was what he would do. Morgana _had_ to get out of that hovel of hers, and how this was achieved was not of too much concern. It was the result that counted. He would probably even walk on his hands if that was what needed, after which he would swear everyone who saw that show to secrecy. He had some dignity left.

The dressed-up officers exchanged some worried glances, but in the end they followed, even though they kept their hands under their cloaks and on their guns so that they could act at a moment’s notice, preferably before Morgana had the chance to blow them all to bits.

But there was no sign of Camelot’s personal nemesis yet and Lucas’s screaming indicated that she was still busy tormenting the Senior Case Officer. She still must not have heard them. Well, Arthur was prepared to come banging at the door in order for her to notice them.

But it didn’t come that far. As it was Arthur and his “knights” had only done a few steps down the path when a familiar voice greeted them. ‘Brother, what a pleasant surprise.’

Morgana’s voice stopped him almost dead in his tracks. His head swivelled to his left, just in time to see the witch come casually strolling out of the woods, as if this was just a chance meeting between old acquaintances. And for a moment her presence took him by surprise. Lucas was still screaming and begging for mercy down there, but yet here Morgana was. How was that even possible? Had she brought in someone to do the dirty work for her and was that person still in there?

‘What have you done to him?’ His voice was cold, all affection he had once felt for her well and truly gone now. A woman who had no problems whatsoever with torturing other people was not a woman Arthur Pendragon wanted to be friends with and the very thought that they were even related made him want to throw up in disgust.

Morgana’s face twisted in the smirk Arthur hated so much. When she looked like that there was just nothing to suggest that she had ever been someone else than this scheming witch she was now. _Where have we gone wrong? What on earth made her like this?_

‘He gets what he deserves,’ the witch replied with nonchalance, the kind that made Arthur want to hit her to get it into her head that this was not normal, that this was unacceptable.

‘Lucas deserves a lot,’ Arthur replied. It was a real effort to stay calm, but the thought that every second he kept her talking was an extra second Merlin and Ros could use to rescue the Senior Case Officer helped him in not losing his temper. ‘He deserves praise and recognition, not torture.’

This had her laughing. ‘You know so very little, Arthur Pendragon! Did you honestly believe that Lucas worked for you? Did you really think that he cared for you and your sorry kingdom? He only helped himself. He only turned back to your side when he thought that would help him.’ The smirk widened. ‘You cannot understand men like Lucas North, dear brother. He does not have a cause to fight for, he does not have any loyalty.’

A small part of him might fear that her words were true. He had felt these doubts when he had been lying in the boot of that car, drugged and tied up. He had wondered why Lucas would do that to him. The thought that his new friend was not such a friend at all had been tugging at his mind, demanding of the king that he believe it. And the position he had been in then had not made it any easier for him to shake that unwelcome thought.

But then Lucas had declared his loyalties in that barn and most of his doubts had disappeared right away. It still left the possibility of Lucas only switching sides because that would help his own chances of survival, but even those had vanished when Ros had explained to him how they had been able to find them. _Colleagues are okay_ , Lucas had written. It wasn’t much to go on, but for those who knew how to read between the lines it was a declaration of loyalty that could not be called into question.

And at the same time it was a challenge for them, a challenge to come to the rescue. He had kept up his end of the bargain and that note was his way of demanding that they keep up theirs. And that was what they were here to do. They would get him out.

‘This is you you’re describing, Morgana,’ he forced out from between clenched teeth. ‘Not Lucas. You have no idea what he is really like. He played you all this time. And he played you because that’s his job.’

Because that was how it was and in a way it made the king of Camelot admire the spook even more. Because this kind of work demanded a price of the people that did it. Jo had been abducted because of the work she did, Lucas had spent eight years in prison and it was obvious to anyone with a brain that Ros had a past of her own, even when she wasn’t prone to share her stories. And all the spooks he had met so far had lost people because of the job they did. The previous Section Chief, Adam Carter, had been blown to bits with a bomb, Arthur knew, and there were others whose names he did not know. It was a demanding job they had, but it was also necessary. And it was hardly surprising that they were so protective of their own. Others would not do it for them, that much had become clear by the unfeeling words of the Home Secretary.

Morgana’s eyes had darkened, making Arthur want to run, if he was really honest with himself. But Lucas’s life still depended on this and so he held his ground. ‘You do not know the first thing about me,’ the witch snarled.

And Arthur was glad of that. He did not want to understand her, not anymore, not after what she had done. ‘I can see what has become of you, Morgana.’ And Lucas’s continued screaming was testimony of that. ‘What happened to the girl I grew up with?’ The question was no longer laced with regret now, it was just something he just wanted to know to help him understand, to grasp this reality that he now had to deal with. It was the eternal why question that he found himself asking.

‘She grew up,’ Morgana replied, sounding almost sad.

Arthur shook his head. Because growing up had nothing to do with this, of that he was sure. ‘This is not growing up,’ he told her. ‘I don’t even recognise you anymore.’ And that was the truth. He had known a woman who was kind and who would always stand up for what was right. This woman standing in front of him was a stranger.

And maybe that was what helped him in keeping his distance from her, to see her as a dangerous sorceress rather than the friend he had known all those years ago. And this had carried on long enough now. In the time he had been talking to Morgana the fake knights had surrounded Morgana and their guns were no longer hidden under the cloaks. All they were waiting for was Arthur’s command.

The king of Camelot took a few steps back and gave a curt nod, directed at his men. ‘Shoot her.’ He could not have done this two days ago, but then he had still felt some lingering brotherly affection for her. Back then he had also still respected the fact that she was a woman, who deserved to be treated with more kindness than men. But he had seen sense since then and Lucas’s continued cries of agony made up his mind for him. This witch had to be stopped. As much as Arthur Pendragon hated ordering people’s executions, his people had to be protected and executing Morgana would guarantee their safety.

The witch had not been paying attention to the “knights” at all. But now she glanced around her, shock on her face as she realised that she was outnumbered and she was on the wrong end of at least a dozen guns.

In hindsight Arthur would never be able to recall in what order the next events took place. Several shots rang out, Morgana’s eyes flashed gold and a whirlwind started around the witch’s form. The bullets went into that storm and some of them came out of it again, embedding themselves in either the ground or a nearby tree. Because Morgana was no longer there. The whirlwind had taken her away and there was no telling if she had been hit at all.

Arthur found himself staring at the spot where she had been standing, wondering what had happened just now. It was only then that he realised that it was too silent. Lucas had stopped screaming.

 

***

 

Merlin ached. He ached all over. It was one of the downsides of being an old man and one of the reasons why Merlin hoped that old age would take its time in gracing him with its presence. He ached in places he had not even known existed before now and kneeling in a cramped position behind a bush had not done him any good. To top it off nicely he had also tripped over the long hem of his robes two times already. He must have done something wrong with the spell this time, because this hem was quite a bit longer than usual. But he would not be seen picking it up as if he was a girl. He would never hear the end of it and he had had more than enough of the girl jokes with Arthur already. He could do without the spooks doing it as well. And Ros did seem like the type to never ever let him live it down.

And the Section Chief was acting like someone had put a hedgehog in her clothes. Ros Myers wasn’t often shocked, or anything but her usual charming self who was impossible to shock, but right now she was uneasy. Merlin would not call it jumpy – because there obviously was a limit to how out of sorts Ros could be – but there was no trace of the usual decisive and calm woman either.

They had gotten the green light to go in approximately two minutes ago and now they were making their way down the path at a pace that was definitely too slow for Ros. She was at least two metres ahead of the warlock, giving the very accurate impression of wanting to run down, only stopped from doing so by her companion.

That was another downside of being old, Merlin pondered. He was completely unable to walk any faster than a slug and even that was not without difficulty. Morgana would not recognise him like this, but that was about the only positive thing that could be said about this arrangement.

And Ros seemed to share that particular sentiment. ‘Hurry bloody up, will you?’ she snapped at the warlock in disguise. ‘At this rate we won’t get down to that hovel before Christmas!’

But Merlin was already edgy and the Section Chief’s remark triggered a reaction from him. ‘You wait till you’re this age and we’ll see how fast you walk!’ he snapped at her. Snapping at Ros Myers was in generally a thing best avoided, because the woman’s temper was usually short and one would not want to find himself on the receiving end of it, but Merlin had always been a little less careful with his words whenever he was in this disguise. It went with the persona of Dragoon the Great, he supposed. It was part of him. Ros should be proud of him, staying in character so much.

‘Well, I’m not,’ the Section Chief pointed out. ‘And I’m not going to carry you down either.’

‘Then you’ll have to have a little patience and wait for me to catch up!’ Merlin retorted.

That however had been the wrong thing to say. Ros’s face darkened and just as Merlin wondered why she reacted that much to one simple and not very offensive remark, he heard Lucas scream again. The sound broke the silence of the forest, piercing not only Merlin’s ears, but also his heart, stoking up the flame of guilt that had taken up residence in his chest ever since the spook had been taken.

Because that was the real reason why he was doing this really: guilt. Lucas had been kind to him, had even been the first one to believe that Merlin was telling the truth about where they came from, and Merlin had repaid that kindness by being so hostile and suspicious towards him that it even surprised himself. He had shut the man out, had been telling him that he would stop him.

Lucas, or so Ros said, had been trying to prove himself to the team, especially Harry, which was why he had taken such enormous risks, why he had infiltrated Morgana’s little group so deeply. All he had been trying to do was to show everyone that he still had what it took to do this job, even after eight years in prison.

And Merlin had to admit that Lucas had proven his worth. He had given them a huge opportunity in the barn and it had not been Lucas that wasted it. That was Merlin’s fault and none other’s. And he was all too painfully aware of that.

‘I can always drag you down by the collar,’ Ros informed him, giving every impression of wanting to do that anyway, whether he hurried up or not. Because if Merlin blamed himself, Ros blamed Merlin even more. And she was definitely not ready to forgive him anytime soon.

‘I’m going as fast as I can,’ Merlin told her, nevertheless trying to speed things up a little. It wasn’t much faster and he was sure that Ros was less than pleased with the way things were going – no doubt already regretting ever agreeing to going out in the field with him – she at least didn’t say anything on the subject anymore. Merlin considered it progress.

The door that led into Morgana’s hovel was opened, slightly ajar, letting out the sounds of Lucas’s agony. Morgana was no longer inside, according to Connie, who kept them updated about what happened on Arthur’s end of the action, but it would seem that this did not mean that the torture was at an end. Someone must still be in there.

Ros’s hand crept towards her gun and she gave Merlin a pointed look. ‘Whoever is in there, get him out of my way.’ By whatever means possible. Those words were not spoken, but the message was clear. Merlin was one hundred percent convinced that he had just received a kill order and while this made him feel altogether uneasy, this was clearly not the time to seek refuge on the moral high ground. Someone in there was torturing Lucas badly to make him cry like this. Lucas had risked everything and he was only in this position because Merlin had been incapable of doing what he was supposed to be doing – as Arthur had told him time and again – and now Merlin owed the man.

He favoured Ros with a curt nod.

The Section Chief wasted no time in counting down before she kicked the door open, storming in, gun in hand, fully prepared to take out everyone who just so happened to have the guts to stand between her and her colleague. That woman’s loyalty to her team was remarkable. It strongly reminded Merlin of Arthur’s attitude and it gave him a newfound respect for her.

He followed closely behind, hands in front of him to blast anyone away before they had the chance to do any more damage than what they had already done.

But there was no one. It was slightly darker in the hovel than it was outside and it took Merlin’s eyes, that fortunately had not aged along with the rest of his body, some seconds to get used to it. But then he saw Lucas, chained to the ceiling in a fashion not unlike Merlin had been only a few weeks ago. He was twisting in pain, but there was no one who seemed to be causing him the pain that he was so obviously experiencing.

Ros’s jaw had dropped and for a moment she too was grounded in place. But it didn’t take long and then she rounded on Merlin. ‘What kind of bloody magic is this?’ she demanded.

But Merlin drew a total blank. He had never learned spells that would allow the caster to make his victim feel such pain. He had never wanted to learn them and therefore he had not sought them out, even if he had been aware of the possibility to torture people with the use of magic. ‘I don’t know,’ he whispered, horrified.

Ros wasn’t even listening. She was already marching across the room as fast as she could without breaking into a run. ‘Lucas,’ she said in a gentle voice, the one you would use when talking to a sick child. It was very unlike her and Merlin was sure that he would only hear it just this once. ‘Lucas, look at me!’

The spook’s eyes were half-closed and unfocused. He did not even seem to be aware of their presence, staring right through them. If he had heard Ros at all, he did not show it.

‘Can’t you do something?’ Ros snapped at Merlin. ‘Don’t just bloody stand there!’

But there was nothing Merlin could reasonably do, not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t know how to. It made him feel powerless, seeing Lucas writhe and scream in agony, being unable to ease his pains, because he could not for the life of him tell what it caused it in the first place.

But there was one thing he could do, no matter how little use it seemed at the time. ‘ _Tospringe_ ,’ he whispered and the chains around Lucas’s wrists broke in half, causing the Senior Case Officer to crash to the ground. It was only Ros’s timely interference that prevented him from falling to the floor. She gently laid him down and even managed to find the time to nod at Merlin in what appeared to be gratitude. Ros Myers, grateful? Whatever next?

Lucas had gone silent now, seeming only barely conscious. His eyes were a little more focused. ‘Ros?’ Merlin cringed inside when he heard how hoarse the man sounded. But at least the worst seemed to have passed now and the warlock was grateful for small mercies.

Ros cracked half a smile in what was quite possibly meant as a reassuring gesture, but it did not reach her eyes. ‘Colleagues are okay, remember?’

It was some sort of code these two used, Merlin observed. Lucas had written these three words on the note that had led Ros to believe that Lucas had never betrayed them at all and now these words seemed to relax Lucas somewhat. Some of the tension that was etched onto his face vanished and he conjured up something that would in other situations be called a smile, but was now more of a grimace because of the pain he was still obviously suffering. ‘Colleagues are okay,’ he agreed, before his eyes fell shut.

Ros shook him gently, but got no reaction out of him and Merlin already felt a cold shiver go down his spine. Could it be that they were too late in spite of all their efforts? ‘Is he…?’ he asked hesitantly, not really wanting to know the answer to this question just in case it was not the one he wanted to hear.

‘He’s breathing,’ Ros replied curtly. ‘Harry, I need some medical help in here, right bloody _now_!’

Harry muttered something about people being on their way, but Merlin was distracted. Shots rang out in the forest, followed immediately by people shouting.

Ros’s head had already swivelled in the direction from where the noise had come, apparently on full alert right away. ‘What the bloody hell was that all about?’ she demanded. Merlin presumed that it was Harry she was addressing, since Merlin had no clue as to what was happening out there. At the very least it would mean that Arthur was still alive, since there was no way Morgana could have obtained a gun. She had not had one on her in the barn and she must have fled right here when she escaped, so that left her with no time to go and purchase one, even if she somehow had learned how and where to do that, which Merlin doubted. No, the shots must have been fired by Arthur’s bodyguards.

But there was not much time to wonder about these things. Harry had not even had the time to formulate a reply when the storm began. It was a whirlwind somewhere on the other end of the hovel, near the door. And there was absolutely nothing natural about it. This was a wind of the magical kind and it managed to put Merlin on alert as well.

He turned around, making sure that he was between his colleagues and whoever it was that was entering in such a fashion. They were unlikely to mean well to them. And he was proven right when Morgana emerged from the small hurricane, clutching her right side with both hands.

She had not seen them. Her eyes were on a wound she was desperately trying to stop from bleeding. That meant that at least one of the shots he had heard being fired had hit her. Merlin was unsure whether to feel regret or satisfaction. But then he glanced at Lucas’s unconscious form and he settled on the latter. This woman had tortured his colleague worse than Merlin ever wanted to know. To him this meant that she had lost all right to his compassion. The old Morgana was dead. He would do well to remember that, because if he lost sight of that again, all three of them were likely to pay for that mistake.

Morgana walked over to some cupboard, looking up to find something in it, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she realised that she was not alone. Her eyes met Merlin’s. There was panic in them, and a trace of fear as well. That was the exact same look she had given him several weeks ago as well, when she had caught him stealing the Fomorroh from her hovel. ‘No!’ she said, more out of shock than actual denial. ‘It cannot be you again.’

Merlin did his best to try and copy Lucas’s most creepy smile. Judging by the look of terror on his enemy’s face he succeeded. ‘Whatever you say!’ He put in the standard old man cackle for good measure.

One hand, red from the blood that was still seeping out of the wound, left her side. She held it in Merlin’s direction, but did not yet release a spell. ‘You’re just my imagination.’ The witch was trembling, but the blood loss could have something to do with that.

Behind him he could hear Ros pull out her gun, probably with every intention to shoot this woman and shoot her better than her colleagues outside had done. When the Section Chief would fire a shot, she would do so with the intention to kill.

‘If that is what you want to believe.’ Merlin smirked again. ‘And I’ll just take them and go.’ He may have been declaring Morgana his enemy, but killing her in cold blood was something else entirely, not something he believed himself capable of. He would not go back on his word to protect Lucas and Ros at any cost, but he would not kill unless he could help it. No doubt Ros would scold him for this later. That was, if she did not shoot Morgana herself.

And there was every possibility of that. Because Morgana had just made the unforgivable mistake of taking and torturing one of Ros’s colleagues within an inch of his life. And Ros Myers was nothing if not protective of her team, even if that was a quality one would not look for in this snappy woman.

‘Hands where I can see them,’ she barked at the witch. She had gotten to her feet, pointing the gun in Morgana’s direction. ‘And not directed at us,’ she added.

The Section Chief was either very brave or very foolish. Merlin remembered all too well what had happened last time Ros had sent a bullet in Morgana’s direction and it had not been Ros coming out victorious. And Morgana realised that as well. The trademark smirk was not there now, but there was determination. The fear was still present as well, but it was that particular combination that made Merlin shiver in anticipation.

Morgana’s eyes flashed gold, but Merlin was quicker this time. ‘ _Astrice_!’ he shouted, all but throwing his hand forward, knocking the witch off her feet, sending her flying across the room before she got the chance to do any more damage than she had already done. And he would prove to Ros that he really could do whatever it took to fight Morgana.

There was a lot of noise when Morgana collided with some cupboard and she cried out in pain. She held on to the wall in order not to fall, the look in her eyes now full of hatred as well as fear and pain. ‘I will never forgive you for this, Emrys,’ she hissed.

But Merlin found that he could not care less about what Morgana thought. Apparently neither could Ros. ‘Very impressive,’ she commented. The tone was both mocking and angry.

Merlin knew what would happen before she even pulled the trigger. He wanted to shout a warning, but it was already too late. Ros had fired and Morgana’s eyes flashed brilliant gold once again.

But Morgana did not even try to deflect the bullet this time. Nor did she try to knock out the Section Chief. The warlock only realised that she made a magical escape once again when the whirlwind had already taken her away from the hovel and they were alone once more. And just like before in the barn, despite the fact that they were victorious, Merlin still felt as if they had failed all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you liked what I did with it. Yes, I know Morgana got away again. Don’t worry, I have this story all planned out and I know what I’m doing. Please review?


	36. Chapter 36

Ros was torn between being relieved and being livid. On one hand they had succeeded in getting to Lucas and rescuing him from Morgana. It had been in the nick of time and Lucas was definitely not out of the woods yet. The Section Chief had turned to Merlin to demand an explanation, but he had met her eyes with a blank expression. Clearly being the most powerful warlock in existence didn’t know everything there was to know about magic. It was hardly a surprise – by now Ros started to wonder if there even was something Merlin did excel in – but she had to admit, if only to herself, that it was a disappointment.

But feeling anger was easier and something she definitely knew how to do. Morgana had gotten away. Again. She had been injured and more or less powerless and she still got away. And this time she could not even reasonably blame Merlin for that disaster. Both of them had done whatever necessary, but when things became too difficult for Morgana, she just stormed out. Literally.

Ros Myers had never been a great fan of magic, but she found herself liking it less and less by the second. In her opinion it caused more problems than it helped solve. She told herself that she did not base that opinion on Merlin’s uselessness, but she had a feeling that was not quite honest.

But at least Morgana had disappeared and they had Lucas back. That would have to do for now. With some luck they had seen the last of that bloody witch now and things would get back to normal. Arthur and Merlin would go back to Camelot and Morgana would be their problem. Hogan had been arrested and, if Ros had a say in the matter, that man would never see daylight again. Morgana had lost her ally in Britain and would hopefully back down.

Ten to one that was how the politicians would look at it. Ros could not even fully blame them for thinking like that. Morgana did no longer pose a threat to national security and that would be the end of it. She might end up on the terror watch list, but that was as far as it would go.

It was also one hundred percent certain that Harry was not going to leave it at this. The witch had made sure of that the moment she had laid hands on Lucas and the current state of the Senior Case Officer was unlikely to sway his mind. Ros remembered all too well how Harry had taken Adam’s death and if Morgana would be “let off” as easily as Arkady Kachimov, then she was lucky.

And Ros found herself sharing the sentiment. She had no idea what that woman had done to her colleague, but something told her it had not been a nice get-together with tea and biscuit. Lucas was still unconscious and felt like he had a fever. Colleagues are okay, they had agreed. And Ros did not deem herself worthy of that okay until she had taken care of Morgana. And if it was up to her she would make that bullet look like a walk in the park to her.

Harry had kept up a sotto voce stream of curses through the earpiece stuffed in her right ear ever since she had first reported that they had found Lucas, but that Morgana had fled again. The Section Chief could all too easily picture her boss jump out of the surveillance van at a moment’s notice, marching down to the hovel without as much as checking if the environment was even safe. Lucas may not realise it, but Harry’s guilt over his imprisonment in Russia was enormous. And it had only been growing because of his failure to recognise Lucas’s attempts to prove himself for what they were.

‘Have you been able to find _anything_?’ Ros snapped at the now-young-again warlock, who was examining Lucas’s condition, trying and failing to make it look like he knew what he was doing.

Merlin seemed to be carrying the weight of the world around on his shoulders ever since he had first realised that he had been completely wrong about where Lucas’s loyalties truly lay. It seemed to have increased when he saw what had been done to him. ‘Nothing at all,’ he replied, sounding very much like he wished that he had an answer. ‘If we could get him to Gaius, he might know…’ It sounded doubtful.

And Ros didn’t have the time for this. ‘Who the hell is Gaius?’ she demanded. She had heard the name a few times before, but had not really paid it any mind at the time, because it had not been relevant to the operation. To be quite honest, she had mostly blocked out the warlock’s happy chatter with Jo.

‘He’s the court physician.’ Merlin started to look enthusiastic about his own idea. ‘And he does have a lot of experience in dealing with magical damage.’

 _A lot more than you then_. The snappy remark was already on her tongue, but she bit it back. Their failure to get their hands on Morgana was not his fault today and it would not be fair to take her own anger out on him. Not that she let herself be led by whether things were fair or not and she knew that Jo would have made sure that Merlin knew every sodding blot on her copybook, effectively assuring that he already expected the worst of her. Ros could not care less about his opinion, but bickering would cost them time and she was in no hurry to gamble with Lucas’s life.

‘And you can’t come up with anything at all?’ Ros found that hard to believe, especially from someone who was supposed to be an expert on magic.

Merlin looked a bit hesitant. ‘Well, it looks like he’s been bitten by some kind of snake…’ His voice trailed off again.

It took Ros about three steps to march across the room and see the bite marks Merlin now pointed out to her. At first they weren’t too obvious, certainly not the ones that were positioned on the skin that was already tattooed. But once she got a closer look she could see the marks all over his upper body and neck. ‘What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?’ she growled.

Merlin did not get the chance to answer. Harry and Arthur came barging into the hovel, the king still in full Camelot armour. Over the last few days Ros had become used to his twenty-first century attire. Seeing him back in the local fashion made her realise that this definitely suited him better. At the very least it made him look more like a king instead of the loud-mouthed idiot she had believed him to be until quite recently.

It was hard to determine which one of the two was looking more anxious: the king or the head of Section D. Harry’s eyes darted to Lucas, who they had carried over to Morgana’s bed, since the owner of said bed had done a runner, and Arthur marched over to see it all for himself.

‘How is he?’ Harry demanded.

‘Alive.’ And that was the best that could be said of Lucas’s current condition. Ros would feel easier if they could just get him to a hospital and have him checked out, but she would have to admit that it would be a hell of a job to get an ambulance here. But even if they would get him to a doctor, they had no idea what had even been done to the Senior Case Officer, and Ros doubted doctors would know how to treat magical injuries. Because she was convinced that whatever it was that Morgana had done to her colleague was not entirely natural. She corrected herself. There was no bloody way Morgana had done something natural.

Harry gave her a curt nod. ‘What has she done to him?’

‘Some bloody snake seemed to have used him as a chewing toy,’ she reported, frustrated to no end that she had not something more substantial to go on. Ros liked to deal in facts, not in vague _could be_ s. ‘Merlin is convinced that it is _magical_.’ She uttered that last word with all the loathing she could muster and she did not think this had passed Merlin by. He could be intelligent when he put his mind to it.

Harry’s face predicted storm for the next couple of months. Ros was almost surprised when she didn’t hear the thunder outside. ‘Has anything been done to find said sodding snake?’ he barked.

Ros knew that she could have come up with that notion herself and she gave herself a good mental scolding for not having done so. ‘We’ve only found this out ourselves,’ she replied. If her tone was a little more snappy than usual – even if some people in Thames House whispered that snappy was Ros’s default setting – then that was purely coincidental. ‘Arthur, take the left.’ She would rectify that error here and now. ‘Merlin, right.’

‘But…’ The warlock looked like he was about to protest her orders again. ‘Shouldn’t I try to find something?’

Ros gave him a sceptical look. ‘And that would be because you’ve been doing such a splendid job of treating him so far?’

He at least had the decency to look a little ashamed, but apparently he was not yet quite done contradicting her. ‘We should get him to Camelot,’ he spoke up. ‘Gaius might know what happened to him.’

Ros had no idea who Gaius was, but there were more ways to skin a cat. ‘Or we could just ask Hogan,’ she chimed in. Expert on magic or not, she was not about to place all her trust in medieval healing methods that were centuries out of date. ‘He was rather close to Morgana. We might get her methods out of him. With some persuasion.’ And she would not care at all if her methods of persuasion were a little less gentle than the cup of coffee she had already thrown into his lap.

Merlin sent her a filthy look that she pretended not to see. She really could not care less about what he thought of her. And it was his fault they had to deal with this situation in the first place, so she owed him nothing. And she was not even convinced Merlin was even prepared to go to the extremes for Lucas. For all she knew this was still his way of trying to get back into Arthur’s good books.

‘Your doctors know nothing about what Morgana has done to him,’ the warlock pointed out.

He really made it too easy for her to counter that. ‘Neither do you,’ she snapped. Right now she did not have the patience for this. They were wasting time here. Lucas was still lying far too still and his face was paler than was healthy. He had relied on them to get him out of this bloody hovel and he still needed them to save his life.

‘Ros, Harry.’ Arthur had been examining some cupboard at the far left end of this house – even when house sounded like an awful big word for such a leaking shack. ‘I think I’ve found the snake.’

Ros gave Merlin another filthy look and then all but ran over to the box the king of Camelot was holding. Harry followed behind and Merlin trailed after them like an eager puppy wanting to prove himself. Come to think of it, that could be exactly what he was doing. Arthur and Merlin had clearly fallen out over this entire operation. Ros had kept her distance from the petty bickering when they had been at it. She had other and better things to concern herself with. But it was pretty obvious that Merlin had taken this entire argument far too seriously.

The roof was leaking in this part. It had rained last night and since housekeeping wasn’t very high on Morgana’s sodding list of priorities, there wasn’t even as much as a pan or bucket underneath the leak. Ros stood right under it and she moved aside as soon as she felt the drops. Water torture had been a part of Yalta’s recruitment policy. She could still vividly recall those hours of being tied to that bloody chair in that half dark room with the water steadily dropping down on her forehead till she thought she’d run mad. Combined with the almost drowning experience on the Thames Barrier a few years previously, Ros had developed something of a dislike for water in general.

It was only when she stepped away from the leaking spot that she realised that the chains were hanging right above her head. Lucas had been held here. Right under the bloody leak. And his experiences with water in Russia had been far worse than Ros’s own. She wondered if Morgana had known before she decided to chain her colleague up here, but if Arthur’s tale about Lucas freaking out over rain drops hitting his face, then she would have found out soon anyway. It made Ros’s blood boil. If anything it strengthened her resolve to find Morgana and finish this. The Home Secretary and Richard Dolby could go to hell for all she cared. If necessary she would make this a one woman operation. She had never been one to live by the rules anyway, her involvement with Yalta and her father’s intended coup being proof enough of that.

‘Harry, the roof.’ Ros hated the fact that she seemed to have lost the ability to speak any louder than in a whisper.

But the head of Section D understood. If that expression was anything to go by he knew exactly what she was talking about. His face started to resemble an overripe tomato. ‘We will have revenge,’ he vowed. The tone and words reminded Ros of that talk they had in the bar on the evening of Adam’s death. She supposed Harry needed to do something to ease his guilt over not trusting Lucas on the operation and revenge on Morgana would, admittedly, be a good way to achieve that goal. That they would do so in the name of national security was only an added bonus.

Arthur nodded in understanding. Now the Section Chief knew for sure that he had spent too much time around Harry. Their expressions were remarkably similar. Merlin seemed a bit more confused, but no surprise there. As far as Ros knew that was his default setting. He had been confused about everything right from the moment he set foot in twenty-first century Britain. He had been confused about what had happened to him, he had been confused about the Al-Qaeda operation and he sure as hell had been confused about the latest operation. Or maybe was delusional a better word for it. Ros would not yet rule out that option.

But she could not care less about Merlin’s delusional and confused state of mind right now. She had a colleague to save. Said colleague was still lying far too still on his tormentor’s bed, barely breathing at all. In a way she supposed it would be a blessing for him not to be awake right now, but she would admit, if only to herself, that she would feel better if she could see him awake. This made him look almost if he was dead and the fact that he could still die did her mood no favours at all. ‘What is it?’ she barked at the king. It was little more snappy than usual and the Section Chief knew it was unprofessional, but for just this once she could not bring herself to care.

By way of a reply Arthur held open the box, revealing a relatively small snake that was slithering around on the bottom of the box. There wasn’t really a doubt in Ros’s mind that this was the creature that Morgana had unleashed on Lucas and she felt the urge to pick up her gun and shoot the sorry beast, but she doubted that would do anyone any good, Lucas least of all. If its poison was what had made Lucas scream in agony, then they might need to identify it before they could get rid of the source of said sodding poison.

Harry gave it half a glance, nodding that he had seen it, before he addressed Merlin. ‘This Gaius,’ he said. ‘Can he treat Lucas?’

He’d better. Ros knew that it would be next to no good to transport Lucas to a regular hospital. She didn’t think they’d know what to do with the snake and the pain it had caused Lucas. She looked over her shoulder to the motionless form on the bed. It was that she could see his chest rise and fall with his breathing or she would have believed him dead. But he was not well and there was just no telling what that blasted snake had done to him. No matter how much she disliked the necessity to let her colleague be treated by some medieval physician, there wasn’t exactly a list of other options.

Merlin nodded, not a hint of doubt on his face. ‘Yes.’

Harry gave another tentative nod. ‘Then find me the quickest way to Camelot.’

 

***

 

It was one of the strangest things Merlin had ever done in his life, and that was saying something. Harry had dismissed CO19 and had sent Connie and Jo back with them. The rest of the team that still remained had been ushered into the surveillance van. They had no other means of transport and Lucas’s condition was still critical. The forest roads were not made for the vehicle, especially not when Ros Myers took the wheel. That was normally sufficient to induce nausea. Right now, on the bumpy paths leading towards Camelot, her driving made the warlock want to throw up even more. But he knew better than to utter such thoughts. The Section Chief already was throwing him looks that told him she loathed him entirely and he could do without her snappy comments about the state of his stomach.

And he would have to admit that his own discomfort paled in comparison with what Lucas must be going through. The Senior Case Officer had not regained consciousness ever since they had first found him. Now he was lying in the back of the van, unmoving, barely breathing and burning up with a fever. And to the spook it must be a blessing to escape his pain by passing out, Merlin supposed.

He could still see the image of Lucas writhing in his bonds, screaming in pain at whatever unseen torment Morgana had inflicted upon him whenever he closed his eyes. It was an image that he was sure would haunt his mind and his dreams for many weeks to come. It wasn’t made any better by the knowledge that it had been his failure in the barn that had put Lucas in this situation. Surely the man must hate him for that. And Merlin could not even blame him for thinking like that. He had probably deserved all of it.

And yet Lucas had smiled when he had recognised Ros. There had been relief in his eyes. Colleagues are okay, he had confirmed when Ros reminded him of it. And in a way Merlin was a colleague of the spook now as well. But the fact remained that only Ros and Arthur had kept their faith in him when it really came down to it. All the others, including Harry, had at one point or another believed that Lucas had turned to Morgana’s side, and that was bound to hurt.

But the main priority would be to make sure that he survived. Everything else could wait. He had no illusions about Arthur’s reaction to the demise of the man he had come to regard a dear friend, never mind Harry’s. Those two could be disturbingly alike in their reactions towards the things they were passionate about. It would be a leader thing, Merlin supposed.

The head of Section D was in the back of the van with Lucas, watching over his officer with a worried expression on his face. Arthur was in the passenger seat, giving directions to Ros. The way his fists kept clenching and unclenching betrayed his anxiety, but whether that was a result of his worry over Lucas or his uneasiness over Ros’s lack of driving skill was not clear.

‘Can you not go faster?’ came Harry’s impatient voice from the back.

Ros’s eyes never left the road as she replied, a fact for which Merlin was secretly grateful. ‘I can’t make it fly,’ she snarled. ‘And if I drive any faster we’ll end up wrapped around one of these bloody trees.’ Merlin immediately took her word for it. He however wasn’t reassured that they at their current speed would not end up wrapped around a tree anyway.

‘We’re nearly there,’ Arthur spoke up. ‘Left, Ros.’

Whatever alliance those two had agreed upon, it was still holding, Merlin observed. They were the most unlikely allies imaginable, but it clearly worked. Ros would have bitten anyone’s head off when they tried to give her commands and for Arthur to obey orders without question had to be a first as well.

And Merlin saw that the king had been right. They were indeed very close to Camelot now. The trees blocked the view, but when they reached the edge of the forest, the castle was clearly visible. Merlin had found it to be quite a sight when he had first arrived here, but Ros did not give it as much as a second glance as she followed Arthur’s instructions and made her way to the main entrance of the town. At least the road was better here. Merlin’s stomach was grateful for that at least.

Trouble didn’t start until they entered the town properly. The guards posted at the gates were too shocked by the appearance of something that was so entirely alien to do something even approaching useful and the town’s people at least had the good sense to jump out of the way as fast as they could to avoid being run over by the van. Ros did not show any signs of wanting to slow down, not with her colleague’s life on the line. That woman’s loyalty to her team was probably her redeeming quality, because so far Merlin had been unable to detect any other qualities people might like her for. Even Arthur was only allies with her because they shared a common aim.

The gate to the citadel was closed and several knights had been found to guard it. From up on the walls they must have seen the vehicle approach and because the knights of Camelot were not about to let a possibly dangerous thing into the city, they had decided to close the gate.

‘Halt!’ Merlin recognised Gwaine’s voice. ‘Who… what are you?’

‘Tell him to open the bloody gate, will you?’ Ros snapped at Arthur. The Section Chief didn’t look like she was anxious, but her hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. For all her Ice Queen behaviour, this woman really cared about her team.

Arthur nodded. Again there was not even a trace of irritation at being bossed about by the Section Chief. ‘I’ll take care of it,’ he promised. Merlin did not even doubt that Arthur indeed would take care of things.

The king got out of the car, his red cloak billowing out behind him. Their scheme to lure out Morgana had demanded that Arthur would once again wear his normal clothing. Right now that was something that would work in their favour. It would allow the knights to recognise their king instantly.

‘My lord!’ Leon was the first one to recognise the king.

Arthur had no time for niceties, a trait he seemed to have copied from his new ally. ‘Open the gate, Leon,’ he ordered.

Leon was eyeing the van as if it was a dangerous monster about to attack him, but he was also a loyal knight who never questioned his king’s orders. It was an honourable quality, Merlin had always found, so even when he was clearly not convinced that this growling thing in front of the gate was not about to swallow them whole, he obeyed the order he had been given. The other knights still had their swords in hand, ready to attack at a moment’s notice should this thing indeed prove to be dangerous.

Merlin recognised the feeling. He recalled the terror he himself had felt when Ros had first manhandled him towards a van, when she had just taken Arthur and him prisoner near the portal. The knights’ attitude was understandable as much as it was annoying right now. Merlin didn’t think Lucas was in danger of dying right here and now, but he could not swear to that. They would need Gaius to look at both him and the snake to determine what was truly wrong with the Senior Case Officer.

The gate opened and Ros hit the gas, making the car practically race into the main square of the citadel. ‘Where do I go?’ she snapped at Merlin. The warlock suspected that it was just the impatience and worry for Lucas that made her sound as unkind as she sounded now, but he was one hundred percent sure that the Section Chief was not his greatest fan and she would never be, not even when this crisis was over and Lucas would have recovered. He had lost every chance of her liking him when he had first distrusted Lucas and then failed to protect him in the barn.

‘The main entrance,’ he pointed. He could see Arthur snap at the knights in the rear-view mirror. The king seemed to have worked himself up into quite a state, but eventually it ended with several knights running with the king across the square, after the van. If the situation had not been so dire, Merlin would have laughed at the way their cloaks waving behind them like banners.

But he did not wait for them to reach the van. He was already out of the car, running up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Arthur had been issuing orders while they had been speeding towards the castle, effectively making sure that everyone knew what was expected of them once they arrived. True, Merlin had been the one who had been on the receiving end of said orders, but he had not been in the mood to argue.

He sprinted across the castle, dodging servants and sailing past guards with practised ease. His job entailed that he had to do this on a regular basis and it felt good to be doing something that he actually knew how to do. Now he was back in Camelot and it made him feel so much more confident. Here he was at home, here he knew what to do and it was a relief. Back in London he had been improvising, pretending to know what was going on, even when he had no clue as to what was happening. Apparently he had done a good job of pretending, but that did not mean he liked it.

But he didn’t have the time to bask in the glorious feeling of being home again, not when this operation was still far from finished. Lucas was still in danger, Morgana was still on the loose and Agravaine was still walking free as well. All in all, things were far worse than they had been when they had left Camelot for a hunt that fateful morning. It was only a week ago, but yet it felt like years, because so many things had happened in those seven days.

He barged into Gaius’s quarters without knocking, as he was prone to do. His mentor and father figure was working on some potion or other. He was startled by Merlin’s sudden entrance, but the shock of the moment soon made way for indignation. ‘Merlin!’ That tone usually did not bode well. ‘Where have you been?’

That temporarily gave him pause. He suspected that his tale would sound like something incredible and even insane to those who had not been there with him. ‘Long story,’ he said eventually. ‘Arthur needs you to check on a patient.’

Gaius knew him better than anyone. The old physician would know when his ward was evading the question. One eyebrow rose in a quizzical manner. ‘What have you done this time?’ he demanded.

‘Nothing!’ he defended himself immediately, throwing his hands up in the air. _Yes, and that’s the whole sodding problem, isn’t it?_ The voice in the back of his head seemed to speak with Ros Myers’s tone and words.

Gaius did not need words to convey the message that he did not believe that at all. He remained in front of his work bench, waiting for Merlin to come up with the entire story.

And they did not have the time for that right now. ‘I’ll explain later,’ he promised, the impatience he was feeling seeping through in his voice. ‘We’ve rescued a man from Morgana, but he’s in a really bad state.’ _And Arthur or Ros is going to kill me if he dies. It just depends on which one of them gets to me first._ ‘So can we please, please save this for later? I can explain on the way there,’ he added, knowing that this would probably do the trick.

The other eyebrow joined the first, but at least Gaius grabbed his supplies and followed his ward out of the room. ‘And what kind of injury are we talking about, Merlin?’ The tone was still sceptical. He sounded like he always did whenever Merlin had managed to create some kind of problematic situation again. Merlin knew he had every right to speak like that. It didn’t mean he liked it, however.

To save himself from the endless stream of questions that he knew to be coming he gave his mentor the very brief version of events, leaving out the entire Al-Qaeda operation, brushing over most of Lucas’s actions and conveniently editing out his own not so glorious role in that operation. He did explain the events in the barn and the rescue mission in Morgana’s hovel earlier this morning. Gaius listened quietly and Merlin had the uncomfortable feeling his mentor knew exactly he had left several important parts out. The old man knew him well.

‘Foolish boy,’ he scolded when Merlin finally shut up. ‘What did you think you were doing?’

Merlin bit his lip. ‘I really thought I was protecting Arthur.’

And that was the point, he supposed. Because he could not really bring himself to regret his actions. If he were to do it all over again, he would do everything the same, because when it came to Arthur’s safety, he really was rather safe than sorry. And if he were to choose between Arthur and Lucas, or Arthur and anyone really, his destiny would always dictate that he choose Arthur, for without Arthur magic would never return and Albion would never come into being. And that was a risk Merlin could not afford to take. Arthur would always have to come first. He had always known that, but this last week had, for the first time since he had been forced to poison Morgana a few years ago, drove the message home that this destiny of his could and would force Merlin to abandon other friends.

Gaius fixed him with his most pointed stare. ‘Why, Merlin, why is it that it is always you that gets himself into situations like this?’ The old physician had asked that question after every hare-brained adventure his ward had had so far and said ward had still not come up with a satisfactory answer.

And he really started to wonder about that himself. So far he had not been able to come up with one reasonable answer. All he could do now was hope and pray that this would not end in complete disaster.

 


	37. Chapter 37

 

Arthur was pacing the guest room up and down, too restless to sit down or even sit still. Harry didn’t seem much better. The head of Section D was trying out different postures. He had sat down for a while, had then got up, started pacing, but eventually he had sat down again. But he was acting like he was sitting on a hedgehog rather than on a comfortable chair. Ros was the only one who at least gave the appearance of calm. The Section Chief was leaning against the wall, arms folded across her chest, an unreadable expression on her face. But Arthur was pretty sure it was just a mask to hide her anxiety. In the past few days Ros had proven herself to be the most loyal colleague one could have and no matter what she said about not doing friends, the king of Camelot was convinced that Lucas was more of a friend to her than a colleague. Why else would she have gone to such lengths to save him?

Merlin had yet to return. Arthur knew he could not reasonably expect his servant and the old Gaius to show up within a matter of minutes, but still it vexed him that they were taking so long. Lucas had been transported to this guest room a while ago. Arthur had explained – more or less anyway, although more less than more – the situation to the knights, mentioned the fact that Lucas was Morgana’s latest victim and had proclaimed both Harry and Ros friends of Camelot. Many of them were still doubtful, especially where the car was concerned, but in the end Percival had lifted the Senior Case Officer up and carried him to this room.

‘What the bloody hell is taking them so long?’ Ros’s annoyed voice brought him back to the here and now.

‘Gaius lives on the other side of the castle,’ Arthur explained.

‘Well, that’s just bloody brilliant,’ the Section Chief fumed. Her eyes wandered back to her colleague, who was still unconscious. Arthur was glad he could see the man’s breathing from where he was standing, because he might have believed him dead otherwise. He had no idea how the snake in that box on the table tied in to what had been done to Lucas North, but it was unlikely to be pleasant. He had not seen much, but what he had seen had been enough to leave the Pendragon with the image of skin that was riddled with small bites. And if Morgana had worked some of her terrible magic on that beast, it was entirely possible that it was the snake that had made Lucas scream like that. And Arthur didn’t think he would be able to get that sound out of his head anytime soon.

The door opened and Arthur was already about to exhale in relief that Gaius had shown up when he realised that it was not the physician, but his uncle that was entering. Agravaine looked as he always did, albeit a bit ruffled. But that was nothing too unusual. Over the last year Arthur had learned that his uncle did not like unexpected events. He was a man who liked to plan things out and he tended to become jumpy when things did not go as he had expected them to go.

And this was of course a disruption of the first order, especially if he had already seen the vehicle that Ros had parked right in front of the stairs leading up to the main entrance. Arthur himself had become rather used to seeing them around, since London was infested with the things, but he could understand that Agravaine would need some time in getting used to them.

‘Uncle,’ he greeted curtly. ‘What brings you here?’ This was really not the time to listen to Agravaine’s complaints about Camelot’s visitors.

‘Arthur,’ Agravaine acknowledged. His eyes darted back to Harry, who met the stare with a polite yet curt nod, and then Ros in her jeans, leather jacket and high-heeled boots, who met his gaze with perfect indifference. Agravaine took in her unorthodox attire and swallowed hard, trying and failing to hide his shock at a woman who was dressed so inappropriately. That was another of those things that Arthur had grown used to over the last week, but that would still be immensely alien to just about everyone he knew.

‘Agravaine, allow me to introduce Harry Pearce and Rosalind Myers from the kingdom of Britain,’ he said as pleasantly as he could manage under the given circumstances. ‘Their friend was recently taken by Morgana. We only managed to rescue him this morning. Harry, Ros, this is my uncle, Agravaine de Bois.’

The two spooks nodded. Harry was too much on edge to force himself to be communicative and Arthur suspected that Ros simply didn’t care about what she called the sodding social niceties. She tended to say that there was nothing in the job description that told her to be nice. She just needed to do her job. Only some days ago he had actually overheard her saying that if she had wanted to butter up to people she’d have become a politician instead of a spy.

His uncle now looked over to the bed. Arthur could see the blood drain from his face at the sight of the tortured spook and he could hardly blame him for that. Lucas looked more like a corpse than a living and breathing human being. Morgana had truly put him through hell and Arthur silently strengthened his resolve to make his half-sister pay for what she had done, not only to Lucas, but also to the people who had died in the station bombing and all the victims she had made in Camelot.

‘That’s a very serious case, sire.’ Agravaine tended to become formal when shocked, Arthur observed. It was his way of protecting himself.

‘Gaius is already on his way to examine him,’ the king reassured his uncle. ‘Can you make sure that there are guards on the door at all times? Chances are that Morgana will try to abduct him again.’ Especially if she was as hell-bent on making Lucas pay for what she viewed as his betrayal as they suspected her to be.

A small voice in the back of his head kept insisting that Lucas, if only for a short while, may well have been on Morgana’s side, but he dismissed the thought almost right away. No, he did not believe that, not really. Lucas was a better actor than Arthur had even believed possible, so good that even Harry had been fooled into believing the spook to be a rogue officer. But that speech in the barn had made it clear beyond the shadow of a doubt that Lucas had never been a traitor, not even once, no matter how tempting the prospect.

Agravaine threw one last, almost nervous, glance in Lucas’s direction, but then nodded, bowed and exited. The door had hardly fallen shut behind him when Merlin came in, without knocking as per usual. Gaius followed in his wake.

He stopped and bowed. ‘Sire.’

Arthur didn’t think he’d ever been so glad to see anyone in his life. Gaius knew more about magic than anyone he had ever met, and apparently that included Merlin. The king would readily admit that he had never believed that Merlin was incapable of establishing what had been done to Lucas, since he was supposed to be such a powerful warlock. Maybe he was more of an idiot than Arthur had been led to believe.

‘Gaius,’ he said. He was sure that the relief seeped through in his voice. ‘Merlin explained the situation to you?’

He found himself on the receiving end of the physician’s most disapproving stare, or as disapproving as he thought he could get away with at least. It reminded Arthur of the look he had always been given when he had gotten himself into somewhat of a situation when he was only a young boy. ‘He did indeed.’ Oh, there was definitely disapproval there.

Arthur ignored it. ‘Then please do what you can for him,’ he urged the older man. ‘This man saved my life, Gaius. I want him looked after best you can.’ He would not phrase it as an order – that had never really worked with Gaius anyway – but he wanted to let the man know how much this meant to him.

Because he did owe Lucas, far more than he could ever hope to be able to repay. Lucas had risked the faith of Section D in him, his life and mental health to stop Morgana and to keep Arthur out of her hands. Yes, he knew that the spook had ulterior motives for acting as he had done, but it did not change the fact that he had saved Arthur’s life by knocking Morgana away from the king. And as a result of that heroic act he was now lying in that bed, fighting for his life. And that was a sacrifice Arthur Pendragon could not let go unanswered.

‘I’ll see what I can do, sire.’ How Gaius could remain so calm in these situations was entirely beyond Arthur and he was not completely sure he should admire or scold him for it. He settled on the first, since the second would not get him anywhere.

Gaius first examined the snake in the box. Arthur didn’t think anyone in the room missed out on the shocked look that crossed his face when he laid eyes on it. He did not say a word, closed the lid and went on to the bed to examine Lucas. The other occupants of the room remained quiet and unmoving. Arthur had to force himself to remain where he was and the same seemed to be true for Harry, but Ros seemed to have frozen into place, eyes following Gaius’s every movement. Merlin hung back a bit, looking very uneasy, like he was wishing he would be anywhere but here. Shame, Arthur supposed, and he should be ashamed. After all, it was still more or less his fault that they were in this particular situation in the first place.

It seemed to take an eternity, but in the end Gaius turned around and walked back to them. ‘It is as I feared, sire,’ he said solemnly, making a cold shiver go down Arthur’s spine. Words such as these had never before boded well before and there was no earthly reason why they would today.

Harry seemed to sense it as well. His fist came slamming down on the table. ‘What did that witch bloody well do to him?’ he demanded. The head of Section D looked positively dishevelled. His tie hung halfway down his chest and his suit was altogether crumpled, the natural result of spending an entire night on the Grid organising the rescue mission. He looked just as ill at ease in Camelot as Arthur had felt in London. Add to that the fact that his best field officer was quite possibly in mortal danger and Arthur could perfectly understand why he was as snappy and impatient as he was.

Gaius raised one eyebrow at the use of that language, but at Arthur’s encouraging nod he answered the question all the same. ‘He has been tortured by a Nathair, my lord,’ he replied respectfully.

Arthur did not know what a Nathair was, but he had a feeling that he did not really want to know either. It was unlikely to mean anything good, taken into account the state Lucas was currently in. He expected that the Nathair was the snake they had found in Morgana’s hovel, but in this case he’d be glad to be proven wrong.

By the looks of things Arthur was not the only one not understanding what Gaius was talking about. Ros fixed him with her most demanding glare, while Harry gave the physician an exasperated look. ‘Ah,’ he said, pretending to understand. ‘And am I going to understand the next bit?’

Gaius now seemed to realise that not everyone in the room knew what he was talking about. ‘It means that he has been tortured, repeatedly, to the very limit of human endurance,’ he clarified. Arthur found he did not like the sound of that at all.

Ros meanwhile was looking daggers at the old man. ‘I think we’ve reached that conclusion ourselves,’ she snapped dismissively. ‘But you have still not told us what the bloody hell a Nathair is.’

Gaius was still scandalised over Ros’s choice of words, Arthur could tell, but only because he knew the physician so well. He masked his emotions well. ‘It is some kind of snake, my lady,’ he replied. ‘In the days of the Old Religion they were used by the High Priestesses to torture their enemies in the most cruel way imaginable.’

This confirmed every suspicion Arthur had ever had. He was quite sure that he did not want to know what those cruel ways actually were. He had heard Lucas’s screaming from a distance and that had told him everything he needed to know about what Morgana had done to him. Gaius’s explanation only reaffirmed what Arthur had already established himself and it strengthened his resolve to get Morgana for this, if only for the harm she had caused this time, leaving the market and station bombings out of consideration.

Harry’s face was positively murderous. ‘Do I want to know what that means?’ Arthur, who had spent a considerable amount of time in the elderly spy’s presence, knew that this meant that actually he did not want to know, but he had a need to know all the same.

Gaius of course did not know this. He merely took this as a request to elaborate, while Harry wanted to be told as briefly as he could. ‘The venom of the Nathair causes the victim to experience extreme pain in both body and mind,’ he clarified. ‘The principles of it are not yet clear, my lord, but I am very sure that it is not just physical pain the victim experiences.’

The king of Camelot had no idea what it meant to be caused extreme pain in one’s mind, but it could not have been pleasant at all. Ros had frozen into place and her boss had paled a bit as well. ‘I say again,’ he said wryly.

‘Will he survive, Gaius?’ Arthur urged, hoping that the answer to this question would be a yes. At any rate he was glad they had decided to bring Lucas here with them. No matter how sophisticated the physicians were in twenty-first century London, he doubted they’d have known what to do with this case.

‘I believe so, sire,’ the court physician nodded. ‘He has endured so far. In time, with rest and some medicines, I am confident that he will make a full recovery.’

‘How much time?’ Ros demanded sharply.

‘A few days, my lady,’ Gaius replied respectfully, even if it didn’t take an expert to see that he was less than pleased with the way both Harry and Ros treated him. And Arthur wasn’t exactly charmed by their manners now either, but he understood that they were very worried for their colleague, as he himself was, and that anxiety was guiding their actions now.

Harry exhaled in relief and Ros gave a curt nod to signal that she had heard him. The Section Chief didn’t do emotions, especially not in public, but she did seem less tense than she had been.

‘The memories however may prove… difficult to deal with,’ Gaius added.

The memory of Lucas in his bed, screaming and twisting as the results of a nightmare, sprang to Arthur’s mind. He had no problems at all taking the older man’s word for this.

‘He can deal with that,’ Harry said dismissively. ‘As long as he’s alive.’

Gaius didn’t share the opinion if that look on his face was anything to go by, but he gave half a bow in respect. ‘Indeed, my lord.’

Ros looked at the physician. ‘Do we have any use for that bloody snake or can we get rid of it?’ The section Chief may be less tense than she had been, but she was definitely not entirely relaxed either. Arthur had seen this expression only a few times before. Back in the barn was one of those times. It was the look that had been on her face when she had pulled the trigger to shoot Morgana. That of course had not worked out exactly according to plan, but it was the intention that counted and suddenly Arthur knew precisely what she was planning. And he could not agree more.

‘The Nathair has served its use, my lady.’ Gaius’s ability to remain calm in situations like this was one Arthur had often envied him for. Had he found himself on the receiving end of Ros’s stare he would probably have run for the hills without a second thought by now.

Ros all but marched over to the table, lifted the lid of the box and drew her gun. There was a hissing noise coming from the box, but it was cut short by the bang from the gun. It would be safe to say that the Nathair was no more.

Gaius was looking shocked, but the other occupants of the room were remarkably calm. And Arthur understood the Section Chief’s need for retribution, to harm the people that had harmed Lucas. That would be impossible of course since Morgana was still on the run, but they could make sure that this pain-inducing pet of hers could never harm another human being again. And in a way it made him feel as if they had at least done something useful, even if it was only something as pointless as killing off Morgana’s tools.

‘What is that?’ Gaius had backed away some, eyeing the gun with wariness.

Ros didn’t even acknowledge this. She turned to her boss. ‘So, what do we do now?’

Harry thought about that for a moment. ‘Now, you are going to set up a workable temporary headquarters somewhere in this castle, while I go to talk to the Home Secretary and get us some reinforcements,’ the head of Section D said. ‘We are going to find Morgana and put an end to this bloody affair here and now.’

He was back in full army commander mode now, acting like he was in charge here, which of course he wasn’t, but Arthur was not in the mood to protest. He needed Section D here to take care of things. And with them he knew he could be absolutely certain that they wanted Morgana just as bad as he. Because much as he wanted to, there was still a traitor at large in Camelot and he could trust no one entirely – with the possible exception of Merlin and Gaius – until he knew who they were.

Ros didn’t seem overly enthusiastic about the prospect of staying in Camelot, but she nodded. ‘And if he wakes?’ She made a head gesture in Lucas’s direction.

Harry’s expression softened somewhat. ‘Debrief him yourself,’ he replied. ‘I fear you’re the only one he’ll trust right now.’

There was a sadness in those words, mingled with regret. The head of Section D was indeed feeling sorry for what had happened to Lucas, maybe even guilty. Lucas remembered something Lucas had said during one of the many meetings back in Thames House. They had only just started the operation, but there had been distrust already. _Is that why you weren’t exactly in a hurry to get me out of Russia either?_ Lucas had asked. The Senior Case Officer had blamed his boss for not getting him out of prison any sooner. Harry had been deathly pale back then, confirming Arthur’s suspicion that Harry did blame himself, maybe even more so than Lucas himself did. He must feel like he had somehow failed Lucas by letting him be taken and tortured a second time, unable to get him out before he had been sent straight back into the nightmare that prison so literally was to Lucas.

Right now, to Lucas that may have shattered every last bit of faith he may still have in Harry. Ros had told him that Harry believed Lucas was damaged by his imprisonment and that that was why he didn’t trust him to pull off the operation of infiltrating Morgana’s little organisation. He was definitely damaged now, Arthur knew. After what had happened to him the king would be surprised if he was able to trust anyone at all. He just hoped that Harry was right and that he would have some faith left. He suddenly realised that he would hate to lose this man as a friend.

 

***

 

If someone had told Ros Myers a week ago that she would do her job from the medieval kingdom of Camelot one day, she would have made sure they got to enjoy an extended stay with the shrinks until they were back in their right mind again. Right now, when she was following Arthur through the corridors of the castle it sounded a hell of a lot more likely than it had a week ago. Harry had left with the van, accompanied by a very reluctant Merlin to give him directions, to get some more officers and to spin the Home Secretary some story as to why they would not work to find Morgana from Thames House. Ros had no idea what her boss would tell him; as long as it worked she was fine with it.

Arthur had been saying something about giving them good quarters to work from, but the Section Chief wasn’t really listening. She only had to close her eyes to relive the moments after entering Morgana’s hovel again and that she could really do without. Her emotions had no place in this job, yet lately they kept invading her work space. _So you better do something about that, Myers_ , she told herself sternly. _Or else Morgana will get away again._

That was the motivation that kept her going right now, that kept her from seeing that horrible scene over and over again. It was her way of coping with things she had no other way of dealing with. Her job was the only thing that had kept her going after her father’s attempted coup, the showdown with Yalta and Adam’s death. It would help her now again. And she could use the anger and frustration she felt now to strengthen her determination to find Morgana and end her. _And to put up with this hopelessly outdated bloody medieval society_ , she added to herself.

Arthur went into a room with a long table in it. Ros noted with interest that the piece of furniture was in no way round-shaped, meaning that yet another part of legend could be dismissed as absolute nonsense. She wasn’t even surprised anymore.

The room was filled with people who looked like they were important. Gaius was among them, as was the man Arthur had introduced as his uncle Agravaine. There was something about this man that made Ros dislike him on almost first sight. There was an air of fake friendliness swirling around him that made even Laurie Werner come across as completely genuine. He greeted Arthur with an enthusiasm that Ros could see through within the second and she was more or less surprised that Arthur put up with it. But he didn’t even seem to notice it at all.

There were some nobles and knights as well. One of them she recognised as Percival, the one who had carried Lucas inside. He seemed kind, but had apparently not yet discovered the benefits of shirts with sleeves. The others were unknown to her.

‘My lord, could you please tell us what is going on?’ The question came from one particularly sour-looking nobleman.

‘I will, Lord Harold,’ Arthur said calmly, betraying some experience in dealing with this man. ‘But first I’ll have to introduce to you Lady Rosalind of Britain. She is here to help us to track down Morgana, so I will ask you to assist her and her colleagues as much as you possibly can.’

Ros’s responding smile to the polite greetings that were now thrown in her direction had all the sincerity of a politician before the elections. She hated these blasted social niceties, unless required by an operation, and she hated the fact that Arthur had introduced her by her full name yet again, and as a lady at that. All this would make it difficult to disappear in the crowds, not that she thought this would be easy anyway. Among these people she would stand out whatever she did, especially since she would not be persuaded to wear the local fashion with its long skirts that would doubtlessly make her trip over the hem multiple times.

‘Gwaine, Elyan, she will need some assistance to set up quarters for her colleagues,’ Arthur went on. ‘Assist her best you can.’

Ros took that as her cue to leave. She had other and better things to do with her time. Arthur could spend as much time making nice with the politicians as he chose, and he didn’t need her to hold his hand throughout the process. She could set up a workable headquarters and talk to everyone who knew something about Morgana. If she recalled correctly there was still a traitor in Camelot and this person would no doubt have something useful to say about Morgana’s whereabouts. It would be her job to find them.

The two knights Arthur had provided her with followed her out and led her to a room with a view of the central square close to the council chamber. The tallest, a man with long dark hair and a very easy smile, did not seem like the brightest star in the universe, and so Ros turned to his colleague, who seemed a bit more serious. ‘I need to have desks, chairs and plenty of candles,’ she ordered, adding the last when she remembered that electric light was an invention that would not grace these parts with its presence for many centuries to come. It reminded her once again of why she would rather work from London than from this sorry place. It was the Dark Age in more than one respect.

‘Would there be anything else, my lady?’ his friend asked. Ros could not escape the notion that this man was not taking her seriously at all. His bow was just a little too low to be sincere and his supposedly charming smile didn’t do his credibility any favours. Ros was an expert where it came to seeing through people’s behaviour – she had become a spook for a reason – and it was quite obvious that this man was more interested in her jeans than he was in what came out of her mouth.

‘What’s your name?’ she demanded.

The man’s attention had drifted towards her high-heeled boots and his eyes widened. Safe to say that he had not heard what she had been saying and Ros was just about to lose her patience with this man.

‘Your name?’ she repeated sharply, snapping her fingers in front of his face. That made him return his attention to the matter at hand.

‘Sir Gwaine, my lady.’ The smile must be a constant companion of his. In a way it reminded her a bit of Lucas, who could smile like that as well when he was about to crack some stupid joke. That image however was soon replaced by the one of her colleague twisting in his bonds, screaming in agony, and that spoiled the entire thought.

‘Then yes, Gwaine, there is something you can do.’ People who knew her that this tone spelled trouble for whoever it was directed against. ‘You can run back to your king and tell him to send me a replacement that is not such an idiot as you.’ She had heard some tales about this Gwaine. Merlin may have been telling them to Jo whenever they were supposed to be studying surveillance reports or something like that. And consequently she had heard some things about this knight as well. It had left her with the impression of a knight with unequalled fighting skills, but apparently he was also known for flirting with every female he laid eyes on and spending most of his time in the tavern, getting himself drunk. So far, what she had seen convinced her that these stories were more or less accurate.

Gwaine clearly seemed to be taking this as a joke. ‘Would that be all, my lady?’

Ros fixed him with her sternest stare. ‘Was this not enough?’ she inquired icily, crossing him off her list of possible suspects. He was not the traitor material. He just wasn’t serious enough to pull it off and she would be very surprised indeed if she was mistaken about him. This was not really a mask, or if it was, then not for treason.

It only then seemed to dawn on him that she was not joking, that she in fact was bloody serious about this. His colleague, who then had to be Elyan, tried and failed to bite back a snort of laughter. He at least had the good sense to get out of the room as fast as he possibly could to carry out the Section Chief’s orders. Gwaine hesitated for a moment, but then retreated as well, with Ros’s most icy stare all but burning holes in his back.

Like Merlin and Arthur when they had first arrived in London, they did not have a clue as to what they were really dealing with. They had seen Morgana at her worst, should be fearing for their kingdom and their life on a daily basis with the way she behaved, but yet here they were, joking and pretending that this was not at all important. They all seemed so naïve, with the possible exception of Gaius, who had been calm, but who saw and knew a lot more than he let on. He was clearly in on the secret of Merlin’s magic and it would seem that no one had ever found out from him that his ward was in possession of powers that were still outlawed in this kingdom.

Personally Ros could understand this ban on magic. In the short while that she had known of its existence she had seen it being used to blow dozens of civilians to kingdom come, to toss people across the room as if it were nothing and to torture Lucas within an inch of his life. If there were ways to use magic for good, she had yet to see them.

That brought her colleague’s state back to the forefront of her mind and her hands clenched into fists. They would have their revenge on Morgana and if Ros had anything to say in the matter, she would make sure that she had a huge part in that vengeance. No one touched her officers and got away with it.


	38. Chapter 38

Lucas was disorientated again. He had absolutely no idea where he was, only that it was pretty certain that he was no longer anywhere near Morgana’s hovel. His awareness returned somewhat and he could feel a soft mattress beneath him, a pillow under his head and blankets draped over him. Morgana’s shack had not been containing any of these.

But what was unknown was also feared. He remembered Russia all too well. Sometimes they would be nicer to him to soften him up and then suddenly become more violent and somehow that hurt all the more after the little kindness they had shown. And Morgana did have an ally in the court of Camelot, so maybe she could afford to take him to such a place with such a bed.

The shivers ran down his spine and he could not control it. The few months he had been out of Russia now had not sufficed to protect him from breaking down in less than a day after the torture had begun anew. His body was sore, painful even, and there were spasms he did not have any control over either. Morgana had not lied when she had said this snake, this Nathair, could cause pain beyond all imagination. He had truly believed he had seen and felt it all there, but Morgana had proven him wrong almost without effort.

He tried to remember something, anything beyond the pain and agony he had experienced, even if he was loath to place himself back there willingly. Something told him this was important. There was mostly a lot of pain that had him shudder again only because of the horrible memory, but when he dug deeper he also recalled a man with dark hair, who had been talking to Morgana at one point. It could be important, but he could not force himself to fully remember that ordeal already. Not yet. Maybe it was self-protection.

Lucas forced himself to take deep breaths and ban those memories from his mind. Those memories were not the ones he was looking for. There had to be something that could explain why he had ended up where he had. He did not dare open his eyes for fear of disappointment and to be quite honest, he was not sure he could find the energy yet to as much as move a finger, never mind wake up fully. He was exhausted, in spite of lying in a comfortable bed, where he had presumably been asleep for quite some time.

The last thing he could remember was being bitten by that cursed snake again. There was just nothing else. He recalled writhing in agony, screaming, begging for mercy that he knew would never be granted to him. His body trembled in both anticipation and memory, but he pushed through, somehow feeling that something had been different then.

At some point during the torture Morgana had left. It returned to him with all the effect of lightning striking him and suddenly he could think clearly again. She had heard something outside – what that had been, Lucas would never know – and she had left. She had not even spared her prisoner another glance as she had stalked out of the house, abandoning him. As much as he hated Morgana’s very presence now, to be alone was even worse than having her in the room, gloating over her own achievements and his weakened state. There had not even been anyone left to plead with.

He could feel his fists clench of their own volition as he remembered the loneliness, the pain and the flashbacks. It had been worse than Russia had ever been. He was almost sure that if he were to return to that horrid place it would feel like a walk in the park to him after having been Morgana’s prisoner. He would even choose to spend another eight years in that hellhole if it meant he could buy himself out of being Morgana’s honoured guest for less than a day. Or at least he thought it had only been a day. With the number of times he had passed out it was hard to tell for certain.

For a while the memory consisted of only more suffering and Morgana did not return. But there was a recollection of suddenly falling to the ground because the chains around his wrists had disappeared. By that point in time he had mostly kept his eyes shut, but when he realised that someone had caught him before he could hit the ground, he had opened his eyes again, only to find himself staring into the well-known eyes of the Section Chief. And that had to be too good to be true. There was no way she could have broken into Morgana’s poor excuse for a house.

And it still felt too good to be true, but evidently someone had taken him from there to wherever it was that he was now. And he had been feverish then, so it was well possible for him to mistake whoever that person that took him was for his colleague.

He heard movements in the room. Someone was moving objects around and this put Lucas back on full alert. He was a spook and wanting to know what was going on around him had become second nature to him. In his line of work knowing or not knowing could mean the difference between life and death, not only for yourself, but quite possibly for dozens of other people as well.

He forced his eyes open by sheer force of will and blinked a few time to adjust to the sudden light. The room he was in was bathing in it. It was the bright light of day, not the filtered almost twilight kind of light that had filled Morgana’s hovel. The air wasn’t as damp in here either. He could breathe again, something that might have something to do with his hands no longer being tied above his head as well.

Lucas blinked another few times, willing himself to see something. There was a blurry shape at the end of his bed that, for a moment, reminded him of Merlin. Whoever this person was, he dressed in exactly the same colours as the warlock always did. He soon realised that this most definitely was not Merlin as his vision cleared, although this person dressed a lot like the sorcerer, with the minor change that his clothes were neat and properly cared for, which could not be said for Merlin’s original outfit.

But the fact remained that this person had shown up in this room, wherever he was, and he had still no clue as to who he actually was, that was enough to cause Lucas to shot up in one fluid motion that nonetheless caused his body to loudly protest the abuse of his sore muscles. He felt dizzy too, but his hands were unbound now and he could still be in danger. And he was not about to be tormented again if he could help it.

‘Who are you?’ he demanded. He hated the way his voice sounded, hoarse and hardly audible at all.

It didn’t seem to bother the other man at all. He met Lucas’s question with a smile that could only be described as dazzling. ‘I am your new manservant, sir,’ he announced.

Lucas blinked. And blinked again. Manservant? Maybe he should not yet dismiss the notion that this was all a hallucination induced by his fever, even if he didn’t feel particularly feverish anymore. But he could not come up with one rational explanation as to how he could possibly have ended up in a very medieval looking room – indicating that Harry had not yet gotten to him, or else he’d have found himself in hospital – with a man claiming to be his servant talking to him.

‘I beg your pardon?’ The words were a little louder now, his voice winning in strength now that he was using it again properly, not just for screaming. It was a pleasant change, but one he could not allow himself to trust just yet. If he allowed himself to hope and it was in fault, then the disappointment would be that much harder to swallow when Morgana renewed her attempts to get him to talk.

And that was something he had been able to avoid thus far. He had held out, had not leaked one single secret to the witch. He doubted he would have been able to even if he had wanted, because the venom of the Nathair had him screaming all the time, leaving no room in his mind for anything else, not even Morgana’s repeated questions, which were somewhere in the background of every memory he had of the time he had been forced to spend in that hovel of hers.

‘Your manservant, sir,’ the man repeated, misinterpreting Lucas’s question, even though he had not been entirely sure what he had been asking for. An explanation as to how he had come to be here would not have gone amiss though. He still drew a total blank when it came to that particular question.

‘What are you doing here?’ It seemed a logical thing to be asking next. It was a better thing to be asking anyway than ‘What the bloody hell am I supposed to do with a manservant?’ That question presented itself to him as well, but it was a far less urgent one than all the others he could be asking, and he needed to be asking. Whatever it was that Morgana had thought up for him, he had to be cautious.

If the rude tone bothered the other at all, he did not show it. The only indication that he did not like the way in which Lucas addressed him was the disappearance of the smile. Yet the tone remained perfectly polite, extremely so even. ‘I have selected your clothes, polished your boots and retrieved your medicine from the court physician. There’s a slight chill in the air, sir, and now, if you would allow me, I would like to serve you breakfast.’ All of this came out in one single breath.

But it did not make any sense to Lucas, none of it did. Selected clothes, polished boots – he had not even worn boots to start with – medicines retrieved from a court physician? Well, that at least ruled out the option of him being in heaven, because he seriously doubted that people needed medicines there and his body was still sore as hell as well. He had to be alive still, but he did not think that Morgana would be as kind as to have medicines retrieved for him, never mind the fact that she least of all would be in the position to get them from the court physician.

‘Where am I?’ he blurted out. Normally he would have thought twice about speaking before thinking, but normally he did not find himself in such confusing situations either. And he needed, desperately _needed_ answers. Whether it was a reassurance or another disappointment, he needed certainties. On certainties he could build, but without them he was feeling as if he was going into free fall all over again. The not knowing was often as bad as any torture he had ever been subjected to.

The servant arched an eyebrow, but quickly got his face in that neutral expression that revealed nothing when he realised he was doing it. ‘You are in Camelot, sir, as a personal and honoured guest of the king.’

Most of these words did not make sense either, but one word registered in Lucas’s mind: Camelot. He was in Camelot and that could only mean one thing. He had indeed been rescued. He was no longer Morgana’s prisoner. He was free. The witch could no longer get to him. Someone had got him out. The relief washed over him and for a short while he was overwhelmed by it, the realisation that he was no longer in danger of being tortured within an inch of his life bringing tears to his eyes. He tried to bite them back; he could already hear Ros scolding him for showing emotions in public, the worst crime an MI-5 officer could possibly commit. But the emotions were too strong now. He had felt the same thing when he had been hauled out of the boot of that car and he had seen Harry there waiting for him. The sheer relief of realising that he had been released and not been taken for another round of torture had robbed him of his ability to form coherent sentences then as well.

In the end he could not help but let out a loud bark of laughter that visibly startled the man that had been sent to look after him. If he was truly in Camelot and Lucas was truly an honoured guest of the king, he could only conclude that Arthur was to thank – or to blame – for the servant’s presence.

‘Arthur brought me here?’ That was yet another question that had escaped his mouth without his permission. _Careful, North, you’re going sloppy_ , a voice in the back of his mind warned him. It sounded remarkably like the Section Chief’s.

‘I believe so, sir,’ the servant replied with a politeness that would give every British gentleman worth his salt a run for his money. ‘Would you like breakfast, sir?’

It had indeed been a long while since he had eaten something. The last time he could recall was just before leaving his flat for the last time, before he had gone with Arthur to meet Morgana and Hogan without back-up and without authorisation. A lot of time must have passed since then, if his stomach’s growling was anything to go by. ‘Yes,’ he replied. His eyes wandered to the table in the middle of the room. Food had been piled up on it and Lucas stupidly wondered who else would be joining him. It was only when he realised that the servant had only set out one plate that he realised that for one reason or the other this was all meant for him.

‘Is that for me?’ he asked incredulously. He could almost hear Ros make remarks about wasting good food.

The man still remained perfectly composed. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘You could feed a sodding army on that amount of food. Twice.’ He was definitely not on top of his game or else he would have thought twice about blurting out every thought that popped up in his head. He’d better pull himself together before he saw Ros again, because having been abducted and tormented by Morgana or not, she would never let him live that down.

The thought of the Section Chief brought back the memory of seeing her face shortly before passing out that last time. It had not been a hallucination. It had been very real. There was a faint memory of the words she had spoken as well. ‘Colleagues are okay, remember?’ For some reason this made him want to smile like a lunatic. Best not do it; this servant already seemed to think he had lost his wits, even if he was far too polite to say so.

‘Would you like ham or cheese to go with the bread, sir?’ he asked. The accompanying sir started to become a little annoying by now.

A smile that Merlin would have called creepy crept onto his face. ‘Would both be a problem, …?’ He sent the man a questioning glance.

‘George, sir.’ He was already loading both the cheese and the ham on the plate. ‘Anything else, sir?’

Lucas let himself fall back against the pillows – why were there multiple pillows? – and took a deep breath. The relief in combination with his half-disbelief that it really was all over had caused a rather strange mood. But he might as well enjoy it while it lasted. ‘I’ll leave that to your good tastes, George.’

 

***

 

It was just another day in the life of Merlin, the now not-so-secret-anymore save-the-day-behind-the-scenes-warlock of Camelot. He had been up the entire night, talking to the Home Secretary, ploughing through reports and assisting Malcolm as he loaded the necessary equipment in the van, along with a collection of batteries that made his eyes as wide as the wheels of that car they had been stuffed into. Almost all of Section D, with the exception of Ben and Connie along with most of the desk officers who were keeping an eye on things in London, had moved to Camelot in the span of one single night. Yet this did not mean that he was excused from his normal duties, it would seem. He had hardly been back in the castle when Percival had found him, asking his help in dragging a very drunk Gwaine out of the tavern. When he had done that, Gaius had made him help in preparing some medicines for Lucas and when that task had been completed, the first rays of sunlight had crept over the horizon and he had to run to the kitchens to get Arthur’s breakfast.

As far as Arthur was concerned, things were back to normal now that they were back in Camelot and that meant that Merlin had to be up at the crack of dawn to make sure the king was well looked after, regardless of the fact if Merlin himself had been able to get some sleep before then. He may have revealed his magic and that may have led to them becoming a bit more equal, but it had not made him Arthur’s servant any less than he had been before. There was something oddly reassuring about that, no matter how annoying it also was. Maybe it was caused by the familiarity of it all, the fact that nothing had truly changed. The basic things had remained unchanged.

‘Merlin, what is going on?’ He was almost out of the kitchen when he found himself cornered by Guinevere. She too was holding someone’s breakfast and she did not appear to be overly pleased with that. Gwen was a kind girl, not a nasty bone in her, but she was a force to be reckoned with when angered. And she did have far more common sense than Arthur.

‘Gwen!’ Merlin conjured up his most dazzling smile. ‘How are you?’

Gwen raised an eyebrow at him. Her position in the castle had been greatly improved since they had defeated Morgana’s immortal army. Arthur had been insisting she became a lady of the court, but Gwen herself had insisted on remaining a servant until the day she really could marry Arthur. Merlin admired her for that, for remaining true to herself, he supposed. With Morgana gone Guinevere had first become a glorified nurse for Uther and after his death had been promoted to the one who was in charge of most of the servants. So for her to be carrying someone’s plate as if she was still a maidservant, that was actually surprising.

‘I am bringing the Lady Rosalind her breakfast,’ she replied. For a moment Merlin believed he had successfully distracted her, but he would not get away so easily. ‘Merlin, who is she? Who are all these people? Elyan doesn’t know and Arthur won’t tell me.’ _So now I’m asking you and I am demanding answers_. When she was talking like this, it wasn’t too hard to imagine her as a queen.

‘You are trying to serve Ros?’ he exclaimed, temporarily side-tracked by that notion. Gwen probably had no idea who it was that she was dealing with, but Merlin had. And the Section Chief was not in the best of moods these last few days. She had also been the first one to dismiss the idea of having servants waiting on people hand and foot as a ‘sodding medieval practise’ and Merlin did not think she would appreciate the gesture much. ‘Can’t you let me do it?’ he offered. At least he knew how to deal with Ros’s fiery temper. And Gwen was such a gentle soul. Ros would break her down in seconds.

‘You are not a maidservant,’ Gwen pointed out. ‘You can’t dress a woman. Or bathe her.’

That was something he hadn’t thought about, but he coloured bright red at the mere idea. ‘Ah…’

‘Indeed,’ Gwen said. She was trying and failing to hold back her laughter. ‘So, who is she?’

‘She’s a… woman.’ It was the most lame excuse he had ever come up with and he knew in advance it wasn’t going to work. He might have been able to distract Arthur with it, but Gwen was too intelligent to allow herself to be side-tracked. For once, Merlin regretted that.

‘Merlin…’ This was the future queen in action again and for a split second Merlin wondered if they should not have let her interrogate Hogan. Now that was something he would like to see.

‘It’s crazy, Gwen,’ he warned her, giving up on the idea of holding out on her. It wasn’t working anyway.

The serving girl remained wholly unimpressed. ‘I am getting used to that,’ she countered.

Merlin took a deep breath. ‘She’s from the future. Morgana created some portal to get there and Arthur and I accidentally ended up there as well. And then we met Ros and her colleagues, but Morgana got Lucas and abducted him, so we worked together to get him back.’ It was a very brief version of events, leaving out pretty much everything, and the words came out far too fast too.

It spoke for Gwen that she remained calm and watched him with only an arched eyebrow, a gesture she must have copied from her husband-to-be. ‘Lucas is the ill man?’ It half surprised Merlin that she had been able to make that out at all.

Merlin nodded. ‘He is.’

The worry now dominated her face. ‘Will he be all right, Merlin? The servants are saying that he looked like he was already dead when he was brought in.’ This was pure Gwen; worrying about a complete stranger’s life. There weren’t many who would have done the same.

The warlock shook his head. ‘Gaius says that he will make a full recovery,’ he reassured her. ‘He just needs to rest.’

A relieved smile graced Gwen’s features. ‘That’s good to hear. I hope Morgana didn’t do anything too bad.’

But she had. Merlin had seen that for himself and he was quite sure that it showed on his face.

‘What did she do?’ his friend asked.

‘Bad things,’ he said, not wanting to answer that question very truthfully. He still remembered Lucas’s screaming and he wasn’t sure he could deal with that memory, especially knowing that it had been his failure that had allowed Morgana to do such horrible things. ‘But I’ve got to run.’ He needed an escape from here. ‘Arthur is going to kill me if I’m late!’ He sprinted away, trying to keep the tray with Arthur’s breakfast balanced.

And trying was the operative word. He had only ran for a minute or two before he tripped – over his own feet – and fell, sending Arthur’s breakfast all over the place. He muttered one of Harry’s best curses, making the nearby guards look at him in what appeared to be bewilderment. He was forced to go back to the kitchens to get another breakfast. Fortunately Gwen was gone by the time he was back, although he did get an earful from Mary the cook, who yelled at him for ten minutes straight because he had been so careless with her precious food. By the time he was allowed to leave again he was sure he would soon be going deaf from all the noise she had unleashed on his poor ears. Why on earth he had ever presumed that Arthur shouted loudest in Camelot, he’d never know. Or perhaps he might. After all, he was running rather late and Arthur wasn’t known to react well to that.

But he was in luck today. The king of Camelot was still merrily snoring the day away, not in the very least aware of the time. Merlin had half expected him to be up just after dawn with all the things that were going on at the moment, but it would seem that the lack of sleep from the last days had finally caught up with the king.

Well, he would not be sleeping for much longer. If Merlin didn’t get any sleep, he saw no reason why his king should have any. ‘Rise and shine!’ he announced in his most happy voice.

A low grumbling sound emerged from underneath the blankets, indicating that Arthur was awake. It was also a tell-tale sign that the king did not at all feel like getting up again. It was one of those days again, wasn’t it? Merlin internally moaned. This was going to be a drag-the-king-out-of-bed-and-get-a-goblet-thrown-at-the-head-for-the-trouble-day. And if there was one thing Merlin hated, then it was that. He may have been hoping that Arthur would be a tad bit nicer now that he knew about his servant’s magic, but it would seem not. Well, at least he had the option of magically levitating the king out of bed now. That thought brightened his mood considerably.

‘We don’t have time for this,’ Merlin said in exasperation as he drew open the curtains, flooding the room with light. ‘You’ve got a busy day ahead of you.’ As per usual. ‘Come on, Arthur, you really need to get out now.’ His voice was almost cajoling now.

He had just remembered that using magic on the king might not warm him to the idea of magic in general or Merlin in particular. Arthur had been downright shocked by what Morgana’s magic had done to Lucas. And he had not exactly been pleased about the station bombing and his half-sister’s magical disappearances. His attitude towards magic was at the very least ambivalent now, because he had asked Merlin to shield the castle and the town in a similar way as he had done Thames House to prevent Morgana from spying as she was prone to do. It led the warlock to believe that Arthur was at the very least not about to scream murder and tie him to a burning pyre, but the repeal of the ban on magic was quite probably not anytime in the foreseeable future. And that was a disappointment, because just after the market bombing it had looked like a real possibility. He would need to keep his secret a little longer.

‘What for?’ Arthur’s voice was muffled by the pillows.

‘A bath,’ Merlin pointed out. ‘You haven’t taken a shower in days.’ That was a future innovation he would sorely miss here, that was for sure. No going down to the well several times, no heating the water slowly over the fire, no bath tub to fill. Well, he was determined to at least use magic for this. He doubted Arthur would mind as long as it was for his comfort. ‘And then you need to consult with Harry. And Lord Agravaine said Queen Annis’s envoy would arrive today and you’re expected to give a speech at the feast tonight.’

That piqued Arthur’s interest. ‘What speech?’ His head came out from above the blankets, hair in complete disarray.

Merlin however did not even dare to hope this interest would last long. ‘You still need to write it,’ he announced. And if there was one thing Arthur hated, then it was writing speeches. And Merlin would spend most of his day with Section D, which meant that he would not be able to do it for the king this time, as he usually did.

The reaction was as predicted. The king threw himself back onto the pillows, moaning as if Merlin had just told him he was expected to spend the entire day mucking out the stables or something equally disgusting. To an onlooker it was probably hilarious, but this was Merlin’s job and to him it was nothing short of a nightmare.

‘No, you don’t,’ he said decisively. ‘We really do not have the time for this.’ And he did not feel like explaining to Harry that he was late just because he was unable to get the king out of bed. Now there was something that was embarrassing. ‘Come on, Arthur. I brought breakfast.’ Sometimes that would work. Arthur still did most of his thinking with his belly, so he would stand a chance.

Apparently not today. Arthur buried his head under the pillows and moaned something along the lines of how he never ever seemed to be able to get the day off. Well, Merlin knew exactly what that felt like.

He took a deep breath and marched up to the bed with every intention of doing whatever necessary to make sure that the king would arrive in time for his appointment with Harry. He idly wondered if Arthur had behaved like this when he had been staying at Lucas’s flat, but he seriously doubted it. He could for the life of him not imagining the spook dragging Arthur out of bed. Arthur probably had been on his best behaviour then. He surely wasn’t so now.

The king voiced his protest when Merlin removed the blankets. ‘Merlin!’ he complained. ‘Put them back!’

But Merlin wasn’t known for obeying orders. Arthur should have known that by now. No, he was definitely not obeying and Arthur found that out the next second when his servant grabbed his arm and started dragging him out of bed. The king’s free hand took hold of the nearest object he could find – a goblet – and was clearly intending for it to hit Merlin’s head. But Merlin had become used to that, so he ducked in time, making the object sail right over his head and across the room, only to end up somewhere under a cupboard or something like it. That was what always happened.

But not today. ‘What the bloody hell is going on in here?’ a sharp voice demanded.

Merlin swivelled around, dropping Arthur in the process. ‘Ros!’

The Section Chief stood near the door, the renegade goblet underneath her feet, as if she had just conquered it. She was still in her twenty-first century attire, including the high-heeled boots, but wearing a tunic in Camelot fashion because her own blouse had gotten dirty during the operation yesterday. The expression on her face was incredulous, but mingled with firm disapproval, which seemed to be copied from her boss.

Arthur had crashed to the floor when Merlin had let go of him. His dignity had been dented rather spectacular in that way, but he still managed to conjure up a polite smile. ‘Good morning,’ he greeted. ‘Will you join me for breakfast?’ Why anyone in his senses would want Ros around, never mind have breakfast with her, was a complete mystery to Merlin. Her presence usually gave him the desperate urge to run in the opposite direction as fast as his legs could carry him. But Arthur and Ros had been allies of sorts, so maybe she was easier to bear then. He wouldn’t know.

‘No time for that,’ Ros said dismissively. ‘And get your bloody self out of bed, will you?’

Her words succeeded in doing what Merlin so far had failed to achieve; the king got to his feet as if he had been stung by a wasp. Some part of his sleepy brain must react to the commander tone the female spook used. ‘Did something happen?’ he inquired. ‘Since you’re up so early.’

Ros fixed him with her sternest gaze. ‘You’re late,’ she countered. ‘And Lucas has woken.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I wanted to write the bit with Ros walking in on Merlin dragging Arthur out of bed since I first started writing the story. Next time though we get back to serious matters. I hope you liked this. Please comment and share some of your thoughts?


	39. Chapter 39

Lucas knew he should have been expecting this, should have been expecting that Harry wanted him debriefed after what happened to him. And he even understood. It was of vital importance that Section D learned what Morgana was up to and Lucas had seen her hovel, had spent time in her company, even if he would not describe it as such. They would need him to remember everything he could and therefore he had to place himself back there, recall all that had been done to him. The mere thought made him shiver.

But he had survived thus far. He knew he could do this. It would however trigger flashbacks, and the ones from Russia would be nothing in comparison. They could only benefit from Morgana’s methods, he thought wryly as he dressed behind the dressing screen with George bustling about the room, doing all kinds of things that Lucas wasn’t particularly interested in.

The very idea that he even had a servant was still completely strange to him. Lucas was used to taking care of his own business and he did not need a servant to do it for him. It had been difficult enough to get the man to leave him to bathe and dress on his own – George did not seem to believe him capable of doing it himself – but getting him to leave entirely had proven to be something of a mission impossible. The servant had looked scandalised when Lucas had suggested it and in the end it had seemed easier to just let George do whatever he wanted. It at least made him happy.

And Lucas would not deny that it did feel good to be looked after a little. He had ever been spoiled, but George was all too eager to remedy that. He had gotten a good long soak in the bath, a breakfast that made him feel full again – something he had not experienced in Morgana’s poor excuse for a house – and new clothes.

That last was something that felt strange as well. His own clothes had been more or less destroyed by Morgana – no surprise there – and apparently no one had thought to bring some clothes for Lucas when they moved Section D into this castle last night. He would have to make do with the local fashion. The corners of his mouth curled up as he imagined Ros’s reaction to his new dressing ways, especially in the light of her own refusal to “dress up,” as she called it. She had come to visit when he was still busy breakfasting, commenting on the extravagance of it all, which deeply insulted George.

‘Ah, you only say that because you don’t eat enough to keep a small sparrow alive,’ he had quipped, earning him one of her trademark scowls, but he was not fooled. He could see the amusement underneath.

‘And if you keep this up, you’ll be as fat as that sodding nobleman on Arthur’s council,’ she had countered, one corner of her mouth curling up as well. ‘Small miracle that man can even walk on his own.’

Lucas laughed, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of it. ‘You should convert him to your eating habits then.’

It was good to do this, he reflected as he tried to figure out the best way to wear this tunic – tucked in his trousers or over it? – behind the screen, not wanting to ask George for advice. And Ros had been the one who had always believed him, had faith in him even when almost no one else did. And it had been Ros coming for him in that hovel. That was something he remembered.

And the Section Chief had quickly filled him in on what he had missed while he had been Morgana’s unwilling guest. Lucas deeply admired Arthur’s willingness to place himself in danger for Lucas’s sake and he could tell Ros had been impressed as well, even if she had not put that into words of course. Colleagues really were okay.

It did not make him dread the debriefing process any less. It would be hell to force himself to remember everything that had transpired during his captivity. It was a small consolation to know that he had never revealed one secret to that witch. He had not become a traitor to his team, willing or not. The knowledge that he had always been on Section D’s side had been pretty much the only thing that had kept him going in that absolute hellhole she had kept him in.

But the sooner he would do this, the sooner it would be over and then his attempts to convince Harry that he could still handle the demands of the job would begin anew. He had briefly considered asking Ros to put in a word for him, since she did not seem to be entertaining any doubts about him, but he had refrained from doing that. It would not be fair and the truth was that he wanted to do this alone, to show his merits rather than have people claim that he had his uses.

And it was something of a blessing to leave George and his too perfect manners behind. The servant was busy making up the bed and Lucas slipped out of the room before he could notice the spy had gone. It really was useful being a spook sometimes.

Ros had given him instructions on how to reach the temporary Grid and Lucas was only grateful for his photographic memory when he needed to find his way through the castle. The place was a maze and he imagined that it would be all too easy to get lost in this palace, especially when one was new in here. Thank God Ros’s directions had been that precise. He’d have hated to have to ask George for help. There had been more than one awkward moment already when the servant had made a joke about brass and had appeared to think that one particularly funny. Lucas had not twitched a muscle.

He was about halfway to his destination when he literally bumped into someone who looked like he was some kind of knight. The encounter almost sent them both crashing to the ground, but Lucas succeeded in finding his balance just in time. Every cell of his body protested. He had no idea what that snake’s venom was supposed to be doing, but his body was still sore and aching. But he kept that information to himself. They believed him weak enough already and he could function with a little discomfort. That was after all in the job description, as Ros would phrase it.

The other man was not as fortunate. He appeared to be half drunk, with a swagger to his step, and the unexpected collision sent him falling to the ground. Not that he seemed to mind. He favoured Lucas with a jovial grin as he helped himself to his feet again. ‘You’re looking better than you did before, mate,’ he commented.

Lucas frowned. He could not recall seeing this man ever before. But then, he had not exactly been in a state to communicate with people yesterday. For once his memory was failing him and that was not a feeling he particularly liked. ‘Have we met?’ he demanded cautiously.

The other man’s grin only widened. ‘Yeah, but you weren’t awake to see me,’ he replied cheerfully, far too cheerfully in Lucas’s opinion.

‘And you are?’ This knight did probably not wish him any harm, but spooks were a suspicious lot and no amount of jovial knights was going to change that. It was in their nature to distrust people. Distrust until proven trustworthy was one of the golden rules of the job and Lucas lived by those.

‘Sir Gwaine,’ the knight introduced himself. ‘And you’re sir Lucas of Britain, right?’

Lucas almost choked on that thought, but whether it was of shock or of laughter, that remained to be seen. What on earth had Harry been telling these people? He should have asked Ros when she came visiting and he blamed his own confusion at the moment for not having done so. He was definitely not on top of his game so soon after getting away from Morgana and that vexed him. It would not do his full return to Section D any favours and he disliked that notion with a passion.

‘Pleasure to meet you,’ he forced out.

‘Likewise, mate.’ Gwaine did not seem to notice the arched eyebrow at that. ‘On your way to your friends, then?’ He hardly waited till Lucas had given a curt nod in confirmation. ‘Don’t understand what you like about Lady Rosalind, though.’

Lucas chuckled before he could stop himself from doing so. It was all too easy to imagine this man having a confrontation with the Section Chief. Most likely Ros had cut him down to size in less than a second. Gwaine however did not seem to think this in any way an issue. His enormous ego would probably quite effectively protect him from any snide remark Ros could make and if he knew his colleague at all, that would annoy her to absolutely no end. So far it seemed that every story Merlin had told about this knight was true, from the frequent visits to the tavern – the man vaguely reeked of alcohol – to the absolute carelessness with which he behaved. But in spite of all that, Lucas found himself liking the knight. He would not for the life of him want him as a colleague – he would screw up every operation he was on – but the knight was amusing, there was no denying that. And Lucas found himself in need of a bit of distraction before he would subject himself to a debrief. And he still dreaded that and far more than he was willing to admit, even to himself.

If Gwaine noticed Lucas’s sudden taciturn behaviour, then he did not comment on it. If Lucas was really honest, he did not think Gwaine had even noticed. His own tongue was working overtime, recounting his encounter with Ros and a detailed description of the tavern and its occupants, followed by an invitation for Lucas to join him. The Senior Case Officer declined as politely as he could. He had no intention of getting himself drunk. He would need his wits about him and alcohol would not help with that. Gwaine was the living and breathing example of that.

He would have asked the knight to leave him to walk the rest of the way on his own, but decided that since Gwaine already knew where Section D was residing that he might as well let him accompany him. It was easy, because Gwaine did all the talking, not expecting any response from his companion, and Lucas could just let his mind wander. In a way it was the ideal arrangement.

‘I don’t think you’re allowed in here,’ he told the knight when they reached the temporary MI-5 headquarters. He smiled a fake apologetic smile. Truth was that Gwaine was amusing to have around as long as one did not have any serious business to concern oneself with. He had no place among the spooks. Besides, Ros would bite his head off if he as much as thought about bringing in Gwaine. He’d be needing the physician’s treatment all over again.

‘I’ll leave you to it then.’ Fortunately Gwaine did not seem to have any problems with that idea at all. It would be quite possible that he had no intention of getting on Ros’s nerves again and Lucas could not fault him for that. Best not to find oneself on the receiving end of Ros’s wrath. ‘If you need help with the lady, just call.’

He grinned in spite of himself. ‘No, I think I can manage her,’ he quipped.

‘If you say so, mate.’ It sounded a little doubtful, but he was gone before Lucas got the chance to comment on it.

He shook his head in mild amusement and then pushed open the door leading to the Grid. And he could not help but smile when he entered. It felt like Thames House even though this wasn’t it. It felt like home. He’d rather die than admit that to anyone, but that was what it was to him. Section D was home. And strangely so, it would seem that Ros shared that opinion with him, even though they had never spoken about it, or not directly at least. But he recalled their conversation they had after the market bombing very well. _Lovers leave, friends annoy you and families mess with your head, but colleagues are okay._ It were not the words a “normal” person would say.

But spooks were not normal people. Malcolm had installed himself behind a desk with a laptop, muttering under his breath as he was doing something that was probably far too complicated for anyone to understand. Jo was looking over his shoulder, pointing out something on the screen. Merlin was a little distance away from them, sitting at another desk, going through a huge file with a deep frown etched into his forehead. Harry, Ros and Arthur were standing at the desk nearest the window, in deep conversation with a man who had his back turned on Lucas. None of them had seen him entering.

Lucas was about to walk over to his boss and announce his arrival, but a second glance at the stranger in the room stopped him dead in his tracks. He knew that man. He could not yet figure out how that was possible, because before now he had thought him a complete stranger. And Lucas wasn’t used to not remembering. That was one of the advantages of having a photographic memory; he never forgot someone once he had laid eyes on them and somehow, somewhere he had encountered this man before. And his memory failed him and that was alarming.

He could only recall one event he did not have complete recollection of. Well, there were two actually, but he dismissed the option of having seen this man in a Russian prison almost right away. His clothing was clearly medieval and that was not the fashion sense among prison officers and FSB interrogators. No, he was fairly sure that this man belonged in this day and age. And that left only one frightening possibility…

Arthur had noticed him, turning towards him with a relieved smile. It made the spook wonder how he had ever been able to doubt the king. He seemed to come closer to being a friend than anyone he had ever known before and in a way, that reassured him.

‘Lucas, good to see you back on your feet.’ He knew from experience that emotions and Arthur did not make for an ideal combination. The king did not seem to know what he was supposed to do with feelings, and this was possibly the closest he would ever come to expressing his feelings. Lucas supposed he should feel honoured.

Ros favoured him with her trademark half-smile and Harry’s expression spoke volumes. There was a paternal smile on his face. Lucas could still feel the remnants of resentment demanding of him to hate his boss, but he also remembered flashes of yesterday. At first he had dismissed it as dreams, induced by wishes and the Nathair’s venom, but now he believed that there must have been moments when he had semi-woken. And in those moments Harry’s worried voice had been at the very forefront. _Colleagues are okay, even the most senior_.

And could he really blame Harry for doubting him? _Yes_ , an angry voice in the back of his mind replied immediately. But if he was reasonable, and as a spook he had to be, then he would have to admit that, had he been in Harry’s shoes, he would have doubted him as well.

And this was not the time to ponder these things anyway, because there was still this stranger who could have some link to Morgana. But he’d be damned if he let any of his unease show. So he conjured up a pleasant and relaxed smile, hiding his real feelings behind it, walked over to the little group and turned to the stranger. ‘I do not believe that we have met?’

Arthur remembered his manners. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Lucas, meet my uncle, Lord Agravaine. Agravaine, this is sir Lucas of Britain.’

Agravaine uttered some polite greeting, but Lucas did not really hear it. Because he had just remembered where he had seen this man before. A cold shiver went down his spine. He mumbled some supposedly polite greeting and then turned to Arthur. ‘Can we talk?’

 

***

 

Arthur had a hard time finding the courage to face Ros after she had caught him in a rather compromising situation that morning. He was quite sure that was the most embarrassing thing that had happened to him in a long time and Ros had not taken the trouble to hide her absolute disapproval of the entire situation. It had made the king of Camelot feel like a boy caught making mischief and he was quite sure he did not like that feeling at all.

Fortunately Ros behaved as if nothing had happened the moment he joined them all on the makeshift Grid. She might behave a little cooler than she normally did, but that he could live with. And Ros had never been the most social person to begin with, so the difference was hardly noticeable. He would take care not to say that out loud, though. He just so happened to value his life.

And Ros was already edgy because of the company Arthur was keeping. The king had not actually invited Agravaine to join him; his uncle had invited himself and Arthur was loath to send him away, especially since Agravaine had done so much for the kingdom in the past year and a half. He felt it almost his duty to humour him from time to time.

Today was no different and Agravaine’s help could prove very useful when they truly went hunting for the traitor. Arthur had been about to protest that notion, because surely catching Morgana should take precedence? Harry however had pointed out that they had no way to locate the witch and no clues to go on and if they caught the traitor, then that person could lead them straight to Morgana. And while they had very little to go on in terms of means of locating the traitor, they had some things. And Section D was probably the best to lead such an investigation.

But Agravaine did not like it. That was not too much of a surprise, since he did not seem to like the spooks. He thought them too strange. His eyes kept darting back to their strange clothes and Arthur would readily admit that when one wasn’t used to it, Harry’s suit and tie and Ros’s jeans and leather jacket would feel entirely alien. He himself had needed some time to get used to it. Not that he had gotten much time. He had been thrown right in the middle of twenty-first century and it was either adapt or go insane. And Arthur just so happened to value his sanity.

So now he watched Agravaine argue with Harry, content to stand back and watch. He knew it was ungrateful to even think this, but Agravaine’s behaviour was starting to get on his nerves. He seemed to take the fact that Arthur had called in Section D as a personal insult. To him it felt like Arthur was thinking that they could not handle the situation themselves – which they in truth indeed could not – and he was all flustered, or as flustered as Agravaine could get.

‘My lord, I understand your reasons,’ he said to an increasingly annoyed Harry Pearce. ‘But I am sure you can understand that a situation as delicate as this one ought to be handled by our own people.’ He all but threw his hands into the air in exasperation.

The look on Harry’s face did not bode well. Arthur had seen it before and it had almost always been followed by a fist slamming a table and a mighty battle commander roar. And he was sure that if he did that with Arthur’s uncle on the receiving end, war would instantly break out and that was something they could all do without. He had already opened his mouth to interfere when he caught sight of a familiar figure leaning against the door, studying the scene in front of him with what appeared to be a mixture of relief and happiness.

‘Lucas!’ he called, alerting the others to the arrival of the Senior Case Officer. ‘Good to see you back on your feet.’ And he meant that. He seriously doubted he would ever be able to completely erase the picture of a barely breathing Lucas from his mind, but seeing his friend alive and relatively well did a lot to help.

Lucas smiled that lopsided smile as he walked over to them, telling them that he was fine. Or at least he wanted to make them all believe that he was fine. There was a difference. Had he not known Merlin so well, he might be fooled by it, but his servant tended to do the same thing when he wanted Arthur to believe that everything was well, even if it clearly wasn’t.

And any information he could offer would be welcome. Oh, good grief, hardly a week among the spooks and he was already thinking like them. He did not like what that said about him. Before today his main concern would be his friend’s wellbeing – it still was – but now it was laced with the need to also know what he might have learned about Morgana’s plans. That notion might not be very unlikely; he had spent time in that hovel after all, even if that wasn’t voluntary.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he saw Lucas falter. All the blood had drained from his face. Arthur would almost say that the Senior Case Officer had seen a ghost of some kind and he wondered what had brought that on. As far as he knew the spook had been looking at Harry and there was nothing in the spooks’ boss that could justify such a reaction.

But it was only a second and then it was gone. Arthur could tell though that he had not been the only one to notice. Ros had a frown on her forehead and Harry looked puzzled. But Lucas had himself under control again, once again appearing relaxed and perfectly at ease. He greeted each of them with a curt but friendly nod of the head before he turned to Agravaine. ‘I do not believe we have met?’ For some reason this came out as a question.

It did however remind Arthur that Lucas did not know who his uncle was. Introductions were indeed in order. ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised. ‘Lucas, meet my uncle, Lord Agravaine. Agravaine, this is sir Lucas of Britain.’

Agravaine and Lucas exchanged greetings, but it did not take an expert to see that Lucas’s heart wasn’t in it. He looked miles away. And this worried Arthur. It was not like Lucas to be so badly shaken that he forgot to hide his feelings. There was something deeply disturbing about that. He wished he could just blame it on Morgana’s less than kind treatment, but he knew that was wishful thinking. The spook had been more or less all right when he had entered here. It was only when he arrived here that something had happened. If Arthur had not known better he would have said that it had something to do with his uncle, but that was impossible. They had never met before.

‘Arthur, can we talk?’ The mask was back in place. This was the cold and calculating spook again, the one Merlin thought to be so creepy. ‘Harry, Ros?’ It really wasn’t a request. ‘I am sorry, Lord Agravaine. There is much we have to discuss. I hope you don’t mind.’ There was absolutely no sincerity in his voice. It could almost have been Ros talking for all the value they seemed to attach to social niceties. Maybe it was a particular spy trait, because Harry only bothered with them when he could not help it.

Agravaine certainly did mind, but he was also a nobleman who had been brought up to be polite to other noblemen. That the spooks were not nobility was a fact Arthur had not wanted to burden him with. Only Merlin and Arthur himself knew about that. And therefore Agravaine reacted with a polite and insincere ‘Of course, sir Lucas.’

‘My office.’ Harry led them to a small antechamber that he had been given to function as his office. Jo, who had not been all too awake at the time, had called it more of a broom cupboard than an office and the name had stuck, to Harry’s annoyance. But Arthur appreciated the humour. They all needed it to keep them going in these times. And it was innocent enough. Who knows, it even might have served as a broom cupboard once.

The broom cupboard was rather crowded with four people and a desk in it and he could see it made Lucas uneasy. It might remind him of prison cells and Arthur could not blame him for that. He had seen bigger cells in his life.

‘Good to have you back, Lucas,’ Harry said as he seated himself behind his desk.

The Senior Case Officer cracked a smile. ‘Good to be back, Harry.’ The words were genuine, Arthur thought, but with the spooks it was always difficult to tell for sure. They were all enormously skilled actors. ‘We’ve got a serious problem.’ The niceties were over for now and they were back to business. All of the spies seemed more comfortable with that. None of them were quite good at all these social skills, the king had learned over the course of the past week.

‘What is it?’ Harry too was completely back in commander mode. In here Arthur felt more like an officer of Section D than the king of Camelot. A week ago this would have vexed him, but now it was rather reassuring in a way. It made him feel like he belonged. Here he had real friends, who were not afraid to tell him what they thought about him and his actions. He wasn’t the king who had to be obeyed at all times. It was almost a relief.

‘The traitor.’ Lucas had started pacing for as much as that was possible in this confined space. ‘When I was meant to be out cold he came there, tried to convince Morgana to strike Camelot now that Arthur was away.’

An ice-cold shiver went down the king’s spine. ‘You’ve seen the traitor?’ This was meant to be good news, but yet he could not escape the notion that at the same time this was news he did not truly want to hear. He had been longing to get to the traitor to make sure that Camelot was once again safe from that person and Morgana’s scheming. But he had always known too that this person had to be someone close to him, someone he doubtlessly trusted with his life. It would be a betrayal like Morgana’s and he was not sure he could handle that, could handle the pain of knowing that someone he had trusted so unconditionally had stabbed him in the back.

Lucas nodded. ‘I did.’ How he could remain so calm was entirely beyond Arthur.

And apparently Ros was done with it as well. ‘Will you just spit it out already?’ she snapped at her colleague. ‘Or do you plan to keep us bloody well waiting until Christmas?’ The Section Chief reacted like this to crisis situations. It was common Grid knowledge.

Lucas remained singularly unimpressed. ‘Morgana called him Agravaine. I only saw his back, but I am sure it was him.’

Arthur felt like someone had just stomped him in the stomach. He had known that this was coming, he told himself. He had known it and still it felt like a terrible blow. Yet his first reaction was still to try and deny it. ‘You may have misheard,’ he pointed out. Oh, he sincerely wished that was the case. Had anyone else come with these accusations he would have sent them away. He might ever have threatened to throw them in the dungeons if they ever spoke such words again. Agravaine was his uncle, Arthur’s steady rock in times of tumult. He could not, would not have betrayed Arthur, the son of his sister, to an evil witch who wanted his head more than anything in the world. It just refused to make any sense to him. Agravaine had given him good advice, had helped to make him a better king, a better leader. Why would he do that if he wanted Arthur dead?

Lucas however was adamant. ‘It was him, Arthur.’ He was decisive, but he mostly sounded sorry for the king. ‘He told Morgana that he had the council eating out of his hand, that it would only be too easy to take Camelot while you were away.’ He closed his eyes and rubbed his chin, thinking, remembering. ‘Morgana told him he was a fool. She said they needed to get to you first, so that the people would be left with no other alternative than her. Only then would they accept her, she said.’ There was a silence again as he thought again for a moment. No one tried to break it. Arthur did not think he could have even if he had wanted to. He was temporarily lost for words. ‘Agravaine panicked. He wanted Morgana to leave her house, something about Emrys having already found her there once. She replied that she would as soon as she had…’ His voice trailed off at this point, but all of them knew what words were supposed to end the sentence: _as soon as she had done away with me_.

Arthur was still not willing to believe any of this. How could it be Agravaine? Why would his uncle do this to him? That was the big question here and it wasn’t one Lucas had answered. But he did not think the spook was lying either. He wouldn’t, not about something as important as this. And no matter how reluctant the king was to believe his tale, it would explain some things he had not been able to find an explanation for before.

And now that he had started to consider the possibility, there was no stopping it anymore. Because if Lucas was right, then it would explain why Agravaine had been so jumpy when Lucas had first been brought in. It weren’t the man’s injuries that had startled him, it was the possibility of Lucas having recognised him. And his reluctance to hand over the investigation to Section D was only caused by his fear of getting found out as long as he had no longer a say in those matters. And Agravaine had been one of the few who had been aware that Arthur and the knights would take the route through the Valley of the Fallen Kings, back when Merlin was taken.

Despite these things he still did not want to believe it. The why question had still not been answered. If anyone else had told him, he knew he would not have believed it. He knew he’d react from his wish that it would not be true, willing it not to be true by ignoring the messenger, or shouting at them for the trouble. He would have done so had it been Merlin, or Harry, or Ros. But this was Lucas North. He had risked his life for Arthur’s while he had absolutely nothing to gain from doing so, but he’d had everything to lose. And Arthur owed him for that. He owed it to Lucas that he listened to his words.

He did not want that. Heaven knew he did not want to and right now the only thing holding him back from shouting at the spook that he was a liar, was the knowledge that the last time people had accused Lucas of lying, they had turned out to be so very wrong. That man did not lie, not to the people he regarded his colleagues.

Said colleagues had gone silent for a while, but in the end it was Ros who spoke first. ‘Well, there always was something off with him.’ The Section Chief did indeed not act very surprised. It was almost, Arthur pondered, as if she had expected it. But why would she? She hardly knew Agravaine at all! Or had she simply seen something in his uncle that Arthur had overlooked, had wanted to overlook? He did not like what this said about him.

But still they had only Lucas’s word for this and he had admitted that he had only seen this traitor from behind. But he would admit that there weren’t that many people who went by the name of Agravaine. And Morgana had at the time no reason to be cautious with her words, not if she believed her prisoner to be unconscious. It all fit and yet he found he could not believe it without more proof. It felt like being torn apart, torn between not wanting to believe Lucas, because the consequences of that did not bear thinking about, and wanting to believe him, because he knew the spy would never lie to his colleagues.

In this case strangely enough it was Ros who thought up the solution. ‘We can interrogate him for you,’ she offered. She could see Harry was about to protest, so she continued: ‘We’ll go softly-softly, make it look like a routine questioning. If he is guilty, he’ll make a mistake sooner rather than later.’

Arthur did not like the sound of that, having heard from Merlin what she had done to Hogan. Not that he was feeling sorry for the CIA man, but he would not want such a thing done to his uncle, especially not if he was innocent, as Arthur still hoped.

Lucas had his arms folded across his chest, nodding his approval. ‘I have a few angles we could explore.’ He caught sight of Arthur’s face and the expression hardened. Arthur could only hope it was not his disbelief that made him look like that. ‘Arthur, if he is innocent, we will know soon enough. But we need to know for sure. You cannot let a traitor walk around in your kingdom.’

He reminded Arthur of duties he did not want to do, but he was right. And he could always hope that the interrogation would prove that Agravaine indeed was as innocent as his nephew hoped him to be.

The king gave the spooks a curt tentative nod. ‘Softly-softly,’ he reminded them.

Ros’s smile might even have sent Morgana running for cover without a second thought. ‘Agreed.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it for today. I really hope I got Arthur’s reaction down right. It was hell to write, let me tell you. Anyway, next week there’s an interrogation coming up. In the meantime I’d love to hear your opinion about this one, so please comment?


	40. Chapter 40

The whole interrogation idea had sounded like a terrific one only an hour ago. Agravaine was  the kind of man who would commit treason and Lucas had seen him do it. As far as Ros Myers was concerned, they had their suspect.

Unfortunately that was where the whole thing got stuck. Arthur needed some kind of confession before he’d let them treat his uncle as a traitor and to get such a confession, they needed to interrogate him. And to interrogate him properly, they needed to know who they were dealing with so they could approach him in the right way. And that was the point where things got tricky, because there was very little information about the man. No one in Camelot bothered with making files on other people, so everything they had on him was hearsay. Arthur could tell him what he knew, but since the king was apparently led around by the nose by his uncle there was very little use in what he could tell them. Merlin provided them with some things he had seen and heard, but all of that was circumstantial evidence, if it could be called evidence at all. The warlock’s intuition was probably spot on in this situation, but no court or king had ever passed judgement based on sodding intuition.

No, the most solid thing they had to go on was Lucas’s information. He had seen Agravaine, had overheard the plans the dynamic duo had made, although Ros could barely suppress a shiver when she thought of how he must have learned this information. Not many people would have the sense of duty to pick up information when in situations like the one Lucas had been in at the time.

Still, this had not been enough to convince Arthur that this was not some kind of snake-induced hallucination Lucas had suffered from. Ros had been meaning to argue that point, especially when Lucas seemed to have frozen in place, but even she could not deny that it was a distinct possibility, much as she would love for it not to be. It was just that she knew that Lucas had been in his right mind, but that too, like Merlin’s words, was intuition and the Service and King Arthur both did not make their decisions based on officers’ intuition, no matter how reliable that intuition or the officer.

 _So, you better get a sodding grip on yourself, Myers. You’re going soft_. With that thought firmly cemented in her mind she returned her attention to the papers and parchments lying in front of her, desperately wishing for a cup of coffee to keep her going. The contents of the thing-that-should-pass-for-a-file were very little and almost entirely useless. Merlin had asked the librarian, someone called Geoffrey of Monmouth, to get them everything they had about Agravaine. Ros had been about to object, because she didn’t want word of this to reach the lord in question, but Merlin had sworn to her that he was discreet. And there had not been a whole list of options, so in the end she had settled for a stern glare and the notion that if Agravaine was somehow tipped off about what they were planning, she would know where he got it from.

‘All right there, boss?’

Ros looked up to see Lucas walking at her desk, perching on it without asking permission, like he used to do sometimes before this whole mess had started. ‘You know that that sodding librarian does want that back, don’t you?’ she inquired sarcastically. ‘I don’t think he’d appreciate it very much if he were to learn someone had sat on it.’ Something told her this was not the way one greeted a colleague who had very recently been tortured within an inch of his life, but the Section Chief had always failed spectacularly at any form of “talking about” things like that. And in her experience it did not do to dwell on the horrors of the past. Had she done so, she would have lost her sanity long ago. Wallowing in memories had never been known to do anyone any good. It was best to go on and change something about the things they could change.

Fortunately Lucas did not seem offended. The well-known lopsided grin was firmly back in place, even if his eyes were not joining in entirely yet. But Ros took it as a good sign. ‘You didn’t have any coffee today,’ he observed, joking as if for all the world this was nothing more important than another day in the office with very little to do.

Ros scowled at him. ‘If Harry can do without whisky for a few days, I’m sure we’ll manage without caffeine.’

This time he laughed. ‘ _Can_ Harry last several days without whisky?’

 _Cheeky bastard_. But the banter affected her too and she cracked a smile. ‘I’m sure Arthur wouldn’t mind sharing some of his wine, mead, or whatever the hell it is that he is drinking when he wants something with alcohol.’

Lucas made himself comfortable on the desk. ‘Well, we’ll find out soon enough.’ The smile still hadn’t left his face and his eyes were twinkling as well. It took the Section Chief all she had not to sigh in relief. That annoyingly easy-going colleague was still in there and almost back to normal, it would seem. Harry had tried to send him back to bed, to no avail, something Ros could have told him in advance, despite the fact that she had known him for far less long than her boss. Lucas was like her in that respect; work always came first, everything else could wait.

It only occurred to her now that her colleague wasn’t wearing his normal clothing. Instead he was dressed in the local fashion. ‘Don’t you look bloody dashing,’ she commented, keeping up the banter for a little longer.

She was rewarded with a bark of laughter. ‘Well, you know me, boss. I’d like to dress up.’

She remembered when they had discussed the whole dressing up nonsense, the first time they had run into Arthur and his sodding good-for-nothing knights. It seemed like another lifetime now.

‘You know, Arthur did provide us with chairs,’ she told him, giving a pointed look at the papers he was currently using for a cushion. ‘Even if you might have to get one from a room nearby.’

The smile left his face. ‘Ros, I am glad to sit at all.’ A wry grin graced his features. ‘Morgana’s hospitality didn’t include any chairs or desks, I’m afraid.’ He tried to keep his tone of voice light and unconcerned, but the Section Chief was not fooled.

But it was her golden rule that she didn’t do emotional and she wasn’t going to be accommodating if he was about to dwell on what had happened there either. Neither of them would be helped with such an attitude and besides, she wasn’t sure how comfortable she was with listening to his tales, taken into account that they could have prevented those things from taking place if they had only believed him before.

So she shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’ She glanced at the parchment again.

‘Anything of use in there?’ Lucas asked, beckoning at the sheaf of paper.

Ros snorted. ‘Apart from his ancestry, properties and sodding titles, you mean?’ she inquired sarcastically. ‘Not bloody likely.’ She liked to work with facts, but where Agravaine de Bois was concerned, facts seemed to be in very short supply. She was reminded once again that this was not twenty-first century London, where she had access to things like internet, mobile phones and CCTV, in short, all the things Section D usually depended on to learn about their suspects. And an undercover job would not work in this case either. For all they knew Morgana had informed her ally about what and who the spooks were for real. The list of options was growing rather short as a result of that.

‘And Merlin?’ Lucas urged. ‘Didn’t he know anything useful? He suspected Agravaine for quite some time, he said.’

Ros shook her head. ‘Nothing,’ she reported. ‘Nothing we can bloody well use. It’s all circumstantial and intuitional. He said Agravaine knew about Emrys, even if he did not know that Merlin was him, he suspects him from placing some magical amulet on Arthur’s father, causing his death… Need I go on?’

Lucas grimaced. That was quite basically nothing to go on at all and he knew it as well as Ros did. Agravaine could easily deflect the question, tell them it was mere guess work. It could all mean something else entirely, even if it didn’t change Ros’s belief that Agravaine’s behaviour was even more fake than Laurie Werner’s. They could be related for all the similarities in the way they behaved, not a notion either of them would like, she imagined. No, Agravaine was definitely hiding things and if Lucas said he was the one they were looking for, then she wasn’t calling it into question.

It was just a shame that Arthur clearly was doing exactly that. He did not want to believe that his uncle could be the one who had betrayed him. It reminded Ros of why he would fail miserably at being a real spook. He let himself be led by his heart rather than his head. That was a dangerous quality for a king, never mind a spy. All things considered it was a miracle his head was still attached to his shoulders at all. They could thank Merlin for that probably.

‘We’ll need to trick him to get something out of him,’ Lucas observed thoughtfully.

Ros looked at him mockingly. ‘Bravo, Einstein,’ she commented. ‘Any idea how perhaps?’

To her surprise he nodded. ‘Use his relationship with Morgana,’ he advised. He seemed frustrated and this Ros could understand. Harry had allowed him to remain on the makeshift Grid, but he had not been given clearance to return to duty just yet.

Well, at least this piqued her interest. ‘Relationship as in romantic relationship?’

He nodded. ‘In a way.’

Ros prided herself in being able to control her reactions, but this one got away from her and she wrinkled in disgust. Agravaine was what? Twice Morgana’s age? If she wasn’t mistaken the two of them weren’t actually related by blood, but it still was disgusting, wrong. The man could be Morgana’s father. ‘In what way exactly?’ she demanded to distract herself.

‘I think Agravaine’s in love with her,’ the Senior Case Officer replied thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. ‘But she’s none too fond of him.’

He had a distant look in his eyes and she assumed he was recalling exactly what had occurred in that cursed hovel. With his photographic memory that would not be any problem for him. Ros just much rather didn’t want him to put himself back there, but she was professional enough to know that he had to. And sentimentality was an emotion that had absolutely no business here on the work floor. Her concern was catching that witch. That had to take precedence over any personal concerns she might privately entertain.

‘He’s swallowing everything she does,’ Lucas continued, effectively snapping Ros out of her almost sentimental mood and musings. ‘She insulted him, threw his advice to the wind and he still worshipped the very ground she stood on.’

‘Sounds like a stalker to me,’ Ros commented. And a creepy one at that. But it fit with the mental picture of Agravaine that she was slowly piecing together. And it was a good angle for interrogation. Finances, friends and family were the standard angles and they worked very well most of the time, but lovers were even better in Ros’s opinion, especially when it was an unrequited love they were dealing with, as would seem to be the case here. This was something they could actually work with. It might be just what they needed to turn Agravaine.

Lucas nodded. ‘He is, in a way. He craves her attention, needs it, but she keeps him at arm’s length, rejects him. I don’t think she likes him even. He is just a means to an end to her, another ally.’ He thought about that for a moment longer. ‘And she does not share any information with him,’ he added. ‘When Agravaine asked about my identity, she as good as told him it was none of his business.’

‘And he swallowed that?’ Good grief, Arthur’s uncle must have it badly if that was the case. She’d almost feel sorry for the poor bastard, but right now he was the means to an end, their way of getting to Morgana and she was not about to take pity on a man who cheerfully supported and, if Lucas had read this situation right, worshipped the most dangerous witch in the history of mankind. She still had a personal vendetta with Morgana and she was in no danger of forgetting that. Good heavens, she even put up with living in this castle for some time.

One corner of Lucas’s mouth curled up. ‘Well, he wasn’t exactly doing a happy dance around the room, but he backed down pretty quickly. He’s going to be a tough nut to crack, Ros.’

So she figured. If Agravaine truly was as besotted with Morgana, then it would take a great deal of skill to break him and with Arthur’s sodding softly-softly decree they were hardly going to get anywhere. Give her a standard interrogation room and permission to conduct this interview to her liking and she was sure she could get to his deepest secrets within the hour, but that wasn’t really an option here. To Arthur the nobleman was innocent until proven guilty, a noble idea that nevertheless had absolutely no worth in Ros’s line of work. If they operated according to that rule in Thames House a lot of terrorists would walk free and a lot more lives would be lost.

‘I bloody well know that,’ she growled, unable to keep the frustration at bay. ‘Try telling that sodding king that.’

‘He still insists on going easy on Agravaine?’ Lucas questioned.

‘Are you surprised?’ the Section Chief countered. She knew she wasn’t. That same bloody loyalty had caused Arthur’s refusal to believe that Lucas was a traitor. Agravaine was no different in that respect. He too had Arthur’s absolute faith until the king had left no other choice than to accept that his uncle wasn’t worthy of that trust. As admirable and useful a quality as that had been where Lucas was concerned, it was an absolute bother now they needed Arthur to use his brain and realise that Agravaine was indeed the traitor they were looking for.

It was silent for a while. ‘I need to be there.’ Lucas looked both determined and frustrated. ‘I know I can get him to talk, Ros.’ The tone of voice was slightly cajoling now.

The Section Chief knew he was right. If anyone could break down Agravaine’s armour of fake friendliness, then it would be the man who had seen for himself how Arthur’s uncle interacted with Morgana. Lucas knew Agravaine’s weak spots better than she did and she would be able to pull off such an interview much better with Lucas than she would be with either Jo or Merlin or, heaven forbid, both of them.

The difficulty was that Lucas was not yet back on duty officially. Harry had been heard muttering excuses involving words like exhausted, not fully recovered and resting. The paternal concern would have been touching in any other situation, but right now it was bloody annoying and nothing else.

‘I know,’ she replied, silently cursing her boss’s decisions that were more based on his feelings than any spook should be allowed to do, never mind get away with. They did not have time for this kind of luxury. ‘You’re going in with me,’ she told Lucas.

‘And Harry…?’ He looked slightly puzzled.

‘Leave Harry to me,’ she said dismissively. Sod him and his sentimentality. This was still an operation and she had still a witch to catch. She’d be damned if she’d let her boss of all people stop her from doing that.

 

***

 

Lucas did not ask how Ros managed to change Harry’s mind on the subject of him being allowed to go in with her to question Morgana’s ally. He doubted he would get an answer anyway, so he’d better save his breath. For now it was just enough to know that apparently matters had been solved. There had been some shouting, mainly Harry’s, earlier emerging from Harry’s broom cupboard, correction, office, but in the end both boss and Section Chief had walked out, the former looking like he had recently consumed a very sour lemon, the latter appearing rather smug. Lucas had thought it wiser not to comment, instead accepting his immediate reinstatement with a curt but grateful nod of the head.

‘Lucas, hurry up!’ Ros was already halfway out of the room before he had even finished nodding. He knew that way of walking and it was a dead giveaway that Ros Myers was on the warpath, this time to get Agravaine to open his mouth and tell them everything there was to know about Morgana’s schemes and plans.

‘Yep.’ It took him about three big steps to catch up with her. It took him every bit of self-restraint not to bounce up and down like an overenthusiastic school boy at realising he had been allowed back on duty. Some, Gaius being one of them, had all but told him he’d lost it, trying to get back to work so soon after his ordeal at Morgana’s hands, but he needed it, needed to do something useful. And somewhere it got all mixed up with wanting Harry to realise that Lucas was fit to return to work.

And that did not make any sense, because rationally he knew he had nothing to prove to his boss, not anymore. It was more the other way around now. Things had become very tense. Harry seemed genuinely glad that Lucas had survived and was back on his feet, but they had no idea how to behave around one another right now. And as much as Lucas hated this, he didn’t even know if he trusted Harry any longer. The head of Section D was difficult to read at the very best of times, but right now it was just impossible. Lucas knew Harry had not believed him while he was infiltrating Morgana’s little group. He thought he did now, but this time it appeared to be a lack of faith in Lucas’s abilities that had made him reluctant to allow the Senior Case Officer back in the field. In short, Lucas had no idea what to do with Harry, so maybe it would be best for now to stay away from him.

And this was not really the time to start wondering about Harry anyway. It was Agravaine they needed to worry about now, Agravaine and Morgana both. It had become rather obvious that Harry and Ros wanted nothing better than to get that witch and make her pay for what she had done. Well, they may want her, but Lucas _needed_ to bring her down, if only to come to terms with what had happened to him there. Turning Kachimov had brought him some measure of relief after Russia, had given him the feeling that he could still handle what needed to be done, could get away from the nightmares, creating some distance. He needed that again, even if he would never be heard to tell that to anyone, not even Ros.

He came back to the here and now when Ros handed him an earpiece. He knew his colleagues were going to spy on the meeting magical style and that they could comment by using Malcolm’s technologies should they hear something that could be of use to them. ‘I thought those didn’t work in here,’ he remarked.

Ros snorted. ‘Try telling Malcolm something is impossible,’ she snorted. ‘And catch up, will you?’

They were meeting Agravaine in the council chamber under the pretence of wanting to have his input on the case. Arthur’s uncle was still under the impression that this was some kind of informal briefing. Away from Morgana he was surrounded by a cloud of fake friendliness hanging around him, making Lucas almost nauseous, because it was just so sickening. He did seem rather nervous around Lucas, even if he could not possibly know that he had been awake during that little encounter in Morgana’s hovel. But he certainly remembered the spook and clearly that was enough to put him on edge. Well, that was good. They could work with that.

He was already there when Lucas and Ros entered, meeting them with the most fake smile Lucas had ever laid eyes on. It was a small miracle Arthur could not see through that. It was obvious to Lucas, but maybe that was only because he knew where Agravaine’s loyalties lay. Because he was convinced that when he had been talking to Morgana, he had been absolutely genuine.

‘Sir Lucas, Lady Rosalind,’ he greeted. ‘Please be seated.’

Lucas made a mental note not to underestimate this man. He was far more clever than he had given him credit for. Admittedly Agravaine had not demonstrated much intelligence while he was busy licking Morgana’s heels, but they would all do well to remember that this man had come so far for a reason. There was a reason why the council was eating out of his hands. With one smart move he had already tried to take control of the situation. It was up to them whether or not they let him.

Lucas chose to remain standing, leaning against one of the columns in the room, arms nonchalantly folded across his chest, giving every appearance of boredom. Ros did sit down, as was expected of a lady, and Agravaine seated himself opposite her, friendly smile still firmly in place.

‘Arthur told me you wanted to hear what already has been done to capture the traitor,’ the nobleman started as soon as the pleasantries were out of the way.

That was indeed the excuse they had used. Arthur had been loath to participate in it, but some well-chosen words from Harry had made him realise that it would help them establish whether or not Agravaine was innocent, which Lucas was sure he was not. He knew what he had seen and heard, but he understood Arthur’s need to know for certain as well. Had he been in the king’s place, he might have demanded solid proof as well. So he banished that nagging feeling of hurt at not being trusted to the back of his mind and focused on the matter at hand. He would need all his wits about him for that.

‘Yeah, he told us you were the person we ought to talk to about such matters. Apparently you were the one in charge before we arrived.’ Lucas flashed the traitor a smile. The game had begun and one of them would win before they left this room and the spy was determined for it to be him.

‘Of course we’ll need to see your documentation of the investigation in order to establish our own inquiry.’ Ros picked up where Lucas left off. They had not really studied what they were going to say. They had questioned Samir the I-really-don’t-know-anything-else-I-swear-terrorist, as they had privately dubbed him, as well and that had taught them both that they did indeed work well together. There wasn’t a system, a method to this. It just worked.

And now they had the great pleasure of seeing Agravaine look slightly uncomfortable. ‘Ah, that might be difficult, my lady,’ he replied, smile still firmly in place, even when his eyes started to show signs of discomfort. ‘I am not entirely sure how they do things where you are from, but here in Camelot we do things differently.’

 _How bloody convenient_. Lucas would bet a year’s salary that there was no documentation because there had not really been an investigation.

Fortunately Ros seemed to be of the same mind. ‘Are you trying to tell me you do not have a single thing on paper, Lord Agravaine?’ she demanded sharply. The respectful adding of his title came just a second too late. She shoved her chair back. ‘Then I am afraid that you are wasting my time. Come on, Lucas, let’s go.’

It took a lot to bite back the smirk that was threatening to show on Lucas’s face, because he knew that now it was them who were controlling the situation. And it felt good to be back in control again. He hadn’t been for far too long. But now he was and Agravaine clearly was not.

The lord had all but jumped up from his chair, all in a fluster. ‘My lady, I assure you there is no need for this. Please, sit down.’

Ros ignored him, doing a few steps, until Lucas caught her arm and stopped her from going any further. ‘Let’s wait and hear what this nobleman has to say,’ he proposed with a smile. Ros smirked with her head turned away from Agravaine, so only Lucas could see. ‘Tell me, Lord Agravaine, what would you propose?’ he asked, a pleasant smile on his face, the one Merlin tended to call creepy, but that was still perfectly polite.

That unnerved Arthur’s uncle visibly. ‘I would offer my assistance on this investigation. My nephew desires that you take charge, but I would like to offer my insights on this matter.’

It was all rather predictable. Agravaine would try to work his way in to manipulate the investigation from within, feeding Morgana information whilst trying to save his own worthless hide. And if there was one thing Lucas was determined for not to happen, then it was letting this man get away with treason. He had sworn to help Arthur, yet he had turned his back on him. And that was one thing Lucas would never be able to understand. He had remained loyal to his country under almost impossible circumstances for eight long years, while all it took for this pathetic man in front of him was Morgana batting her eyelashes and he followed her around like a love-struck puppy, eager to go and fetch at her command. He could only feel contempt for such a man.

Ros had turned around again. ‘I do believe that meeting was intended for that purpose,’ she reminded him. ‘As you may understand, we would like to carry out our own investigation. Without outside influences,’ she added in a sickeningly sweet tone of voice, the one that made most of her subordinates want to run for the hills without as much as a second thought. Unfortunately Agravaine did not know that.

The words seemed to unsettle him more than the tone. ‘My lady, I assure you…’

‘Your assurances do not mean very much to us,’ Ros told him bluntly, sounding a lot like herself and not the slightly more subdued version she had apparently kept up in public, the few times she had appeared in public that was. ‘We do not know you and we do not know if you can be trusted at all.’

The lord did seem both offended and a little panicked. He was visibly asking himself what they knew, how much they knew, how much of a danger they were to his position. They had not said anything too explicit yet and that was a good thing. Unnerved and uncertain was how MI-5 liked its suspects best. It would mean they talked more and spent far less time pondering what they would say than they would in different circumstances. And the more thoughtless they were with their words, the sooner they would say something that landed them in trouble. And that was what they were waiting for here. Taken into account Lord Agravaine’s current state of mind, this might happen quicker than they had originally anticipated.

‘Is there something you are implying, my lady?’ Agravaine did his best to keep up his charade of the offended and wronged noble.

‘Should we?’ Lucas countered innocently.

‘Of course not.’ The reply was too quick. ‘Please, let us sit down and put this unfortunate misunderstanding behind us.’

Ros did indeed sit, but Lucas once again remained standing. He was not about to hand Agravaine the control over this conversation back on a sodding silver platter, not when he had only just gained it.

It was a subtlety that did not escape the traitor’s notice. He eyed Lucas nervously. ‘Would you not sit down, sir Lucas?’

Lucas flashed a smile again. ‘Oh, I’ve been sitting far too much this morning,’ he replied. ‘Surely this does not bother you?’

Agravaine was too polite to tell him that it indeed did bother him, very much so. He wasn’t stupid. He knew how this game was played and therefore he must know that he for once was not entirely on top of the situation. But he inclined his head and let the matter rest. ‘As you wish. Now please, how may I assist you?’

Lucas folded his arms across his chest again. ‘Well, you can always start by telling us what you have already found out. That would be most helpful to us.’

‘Of course.’ The traitor was still not at ease – the way he kept fidgeting in his chair was a dead giveaway, as were his quick glances at the door, as if he was searching for an escape – but he smiled too. ‘There is not very much we have learned so far, I regret to report. The man or woman that we are dealing with is very smart, but we suspect that whoever it is, is someone of the king’s close confidantes. This person must have had access to very sensitive information.’

Ros leaned back into her chair. ‘Do tell us something we did not already know, will you?’ The boredom was impossible to miss.

And Agravaine could not help but react to it. ‘My lady, you must understand that it is a very delicate matter. We’ll have to be careful if we want to bring this to a good end.’

The use of the plural had not slipped Lucas’s notice. That man was still trying to wriggle his way back into the investigation. ‘What I think is that you should stop lying to us, Lord Agravaine.’ He was throwing Arthur’s warnings right out of the window now. Softly-softly be damned. They were not going to receive any answers like this. It was time to turn the screws on this nobleman-gone-traitor.

‘Lucas, careful,’ Harry’s voice warned him in his right ear.

Lucas pretended he did not hear that, keeping his gaze fixed on the now very indignant acting man on the other side of the table. Agravaine was clearly torn between anger and something that might soon turn into fear.

‘I do not know what you are talking about, sir Lucas,’ he began. ‘I am sure there is some kind of misunderstanding here…’

Lucas did not give him the chance to finish. Harry was sputtering protests into his ear, but it was easy, almost too easy, to ignore. He knew he was not supposed to be doing this, but at the moment he found he could not care less. It was a gamble he took, but one that was almost certain to pay off if he played this right. He only hoped the others could convince Arthur to stay where he was and not to come barging in because of Lucas’s verbal attack at his beloved uncle.

‘There is no misunderstanding,’ he could hear himself say. ‘And I think it’s time you started telling us the truth.’ His eyes never left the nobleman’s. It had the desired effect. Agravaine was as ill at ease as Lucas wanted him to be. It made him feel triumphant. He was once again doing what he did best.

‘Sir Lucas, I do not have any idea what it is that you are talking about,’ Agravaine was trying to glare at him, failing miserably. ‘What truth would you have from me?’

Lucas leaned back against the column, unable to stop the smirk from showing this time. ‘Why don’t we start with the truth of you falling in love with the king’s half-sister?’ he suggested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that’s a cliffhanger. Sorry! Next time: more interrogation. Until then, please review? I’d like to hear what you think.


	41. Chapter 41

The silence in the temporary headquarters of Section D was deafening. Merlin could feel himself hold his breath, hardly able to believe that Lucas had truly taken it this far. True, the conversation had not seemed to be going anywhere before now and Merlin was starting to get a little frustrated. There had been some verbal skirmishes, but hardly enough to make Agravaine blurt out a confession. He was too slippery to be caught like that. He had played this game for years and he would not fall easily into traps. And Arthur’s decreed soft approach would not allow the spooks in there to do anything more.

That was until Lucas had thrown caution and orders to the wind and outright accused Arthur’s uncle of lying. That was a risky business and apparently Harry shared the opinion that this was by no means a good idea. He had been giving warnings to his field officer to stop this immediately, but either Lucas pretended not to hear his boss’s protests or he had switched off the device so he would not hear Harry, no matter what he said. Harry now kept up a sotto voce stream of curses as the events unfolded.

Merlin himself was a little shocked as well. He still did not know what to make of the Senior Case Officer. He was a riddle wrapped up in a mystery, something Gaius had once accused him of being. Merlin could never read the spook, never predict what he might be up to. There was only one thing he actually was certain of and that was that Lucas was by no means on Morgana’s side. Only a fool would not realise that after everything he had been through for Arthur. Had Lucas been truly on Morgana’s side, he would have handed Arthur to her and be done with it. He’d had plenty of opportunity and he hadn’t done it. He may not like the way the man operated – because morals did not appear to be quite high on his list of priorities – but he owed him a debt. There was no changing that fact.

And if he was really honest he would have to admit that he actually wholly approved of what Lucas was doing now, once he had recovered from the initial shock of it. Arthur’s chosen soft approach was getting them nowhere, but Lucas’s straight to the point one might just get them what they needed before Agravaine got the chance to walk away from this. That was something Merlin simply could not stand for. They had come too close. He would not let go of this matter now.

Agravaine was still trying to wriggle his way out of this, visibly uncomfortable with the course this meeting had taken. He was ill at ease, almost jumpy, but still presenting that fake smile of his, insisting that there must be some kind of misunderstanding. It was as predictable as it was annoying. Arthur’s uncle demanded to know what kind of truth it was then that he wanted to hear from his mouth.

Fortunately the spooks weren’t the kind of people to get fooled by these excuses and Lucas was on the case in a matter of seconds. ‘Why don’t we start with the truth of you falling in love with the king’s half-sister?’ He leaned against the column, arms folded across his chest, speaking in a tone of voice that would suggest that this was nothing more important than the weather.

In truth  he had of course dropped a bomb. The silence following that question was deafening, both on the Grid and in the council chambers. Ros actually seemed the only one to copy Lucas’s attitude. The Section Chief was all but lounging in her chair, obviously pleased with what her colleague had done. The people following the interrogation appeared to be in some kind of shock. Merlin had the advantage of being able to shift the way they were looking at the people in the council chamber, so Section D could see everyone’s reaction to Lucas’s inquiry.

Agravaine was merely staring, clearly not knowing what to do. There was fear, shock and then the mask of the pleasant uncle he had worn ever since he had first arrived in Camelot slipped back in place. ‘Sir Lucas, I don’t think…’

This time it was Ros who spoke. ‘We are actually aware of that,’ she commented wryly. ‘Now, Lord Agravaine, why don’t we drop the pretences and become really honest with one another? You see, we happen to know for a fact that you are a little too friendly with someone who we might consider an enemy of the state.’

‘My lady, I must protest!’ Agravaine’s smile was becoming rather fixed all of a sudden. He had been uneasy before, but he was downright jumpy now. Lucas and Ros had truly managed to take him by surprise and throw him off balance and it didn’t seem to take up any effort at all. They just did it and now Agravaine was getting backed into a corner.

Merlin experienced a grim form of triumph. No matter how much mistakes he had made in the past week, eventually it had led to them being here, closer to catching Agravaine than they had ever been. Had Lucas not been abducted by Morgana, he would never have seen Arthur’s uncle there and they would never have been able to catch him. He sincerely regretted everything that had to happen to make this possible, but the truth, no matter how hard that truth was, was that they would never have succeeded so soon without all those events.

Maybe this made him as cold and calculating as the spooks he was now watching. They certainly had changed the way he looked at the world and he was not yet convinced that it was a change for the better. He admired Ros and Lucas for playing Agravaine as they did, but he would never want to treat people like they tended to do. And maybe that was why he needed them; to do what he himself could not.

‘Must you now?’ Ros gave every appearance of boredom. ‘Maybe we should phrase it differently then. How about: we know that you are in league with Morgana, because you’ve been seen?’

Following the proceedings in the water did not provide one with as clear a reception as one would have when they used a camera, but even without that it was obvious that all the blood instantly drained from Agravaine’s face. The smile was still there, but only because it had frozen, not because he meant it. ‘I am sure there must be some kind of mistake, my lady.’ Even his words seemed rehearsed and formal now.

Next to the warlock the king was fuming. ‘Ros, stop this at once!’ he hissed in the microphone. ‘Back down.’

But if the spooks ignored Harry, who was their real boss, then they were certainly not going to pay attention to Arthur. Merlin could have told the king so in advance. It was just the way they operated. They viewed this as their case now and they would do whatever it took to get the answers they needed. And it was personal, for both of them. Both Lucas and Ros still had a bone to pick with Morgana and Agravaine was their way to her. The chances of them letting that chance slip through their fingers was non-existent.

‘I’m sure there’s not.’ Ros too was still smiling, but Merlin didn’t need to see her eyes to know that her eyes were ice-cold. Whenever she used this tone of voice against her colleagues, they were prepared to run for cover as fast as they could. ‘So, let me specify this further: you were seen by my colleague here.’

The effects were immediate. Agravaine’s head swivelled in Lucas’s direction, who favoured the nobleman with a creepy smile. This last argument had hit home, Merlin could tell. He was on his feet again, trying and failing to conjure up an expression of righteous indignity. ‘I do not have to listen to these insults,’ he said haughtily, preparing to turn on his heels and march out of the room to save himself, not that there was anything left to save.

‘Oh, I’m sure the king will hear all about this.’ Lucas’s calm yet threatening remark made Agravaine stop dead in his tracks, unfortunately not literally. ‘But not from your lips. And we are authorised to carry out this investigation by your king, so you will sit down and you do not leave this room until you have answered every question to our full satisfaction. Now, sit _down_.’ The friendliness that had been present there at the beginning of the speech had gradually disappeared until only the ice-cold ordering tone remained, reminding Merlin of the exact reason why he should never underestimate this man. 

There was an authority in his voice that reminded the warlock of the head of Section D – quite possibly he had modelled his current behaviour on his boss’s – and Agravaine was clearly incapable of just ignoring it. He remained standing, not quite obeying, but he wasn’t making for the exit anymore either. Merlin considered it progress.

Arthur didn’t. He had turned to Harry. ‘We must put an end to this. They can’t go around insulting my uncle like that.’

 _Yes, they can. And they must_. Merlin had to work hard to stop himself from groaning in frustration. Could Arthur not see that this was necessary? Could he not see how suspicious Agravaine’s behaviour was? It seemed so obvious to him!

Fortunately Harry was of the same mind. ‘You will _not_ interfere.’ This was the boss addressing a disobedient officer. Merlin guessed that part of Harry still regarded Arthur as one of his subordinates, especially when it came to spying matters. In this case that was probably a good thing. ‘They know what they are doing and you are going to let them do it.’

‘Agravaine is my uncle, not an enemy.’ Arthur’s protest sounded feeble. He truly did not want to see what was right in front of him and as annoying as that was, Merlin could understand his reasoning. In his place he would not want to believe it either. He would not be willing to accept another betrayal from a family member either and therefore it was necessary that Agravaine did or said something that left no room for any other explanation.

‘Lucas has seen him, plotting with Morgana,’ Harry snapped, clearly losing his patience with the king’s refusal to accept the fact. Had they been in Thames House, then Merlin had no doubt they would have brought Agravaine in for questioning as soon as they heard of his involvement and softly-softly be buggered. ‘So, you will sit here and give him the chance to prove his report.’ _We all know what happened the last time we did not trust him_. Those words weren’t spoken, but everyone with ears could hear them.

And Arthur backed off for now. Merlin did not think Arthur had ever truly doubted Lucas’s loyalties, but Arthur’s reaction to this barely concealed accusation was as predicted. The king clearly felt that his loyalty was questioned and he took that as a challenge, a challenge to show that he did have faith in Lucas. He still wasn’t pleased, but he at least made no further protests and they could not wish for more at the time.

‘I can call the guards,’ Agravaine threatened, the friendliness now finally abandoning him as well, making place for the scheming man Merlin knew him to be. ‘I can have you thrown in the dungeons for threatening me.’

Ros’s relaxed smile told him she was not in the very least impressed by this. ‘I don’t think that will be much of an issue. Go ahead, call them.’ Her smile turned so sickeningly sweet that it surprised Merlin the traitor had yet to make a run for it. He knew he would had he been on the receiving end of said smile. ‘But I think you’ll find that the guards at the door had sudden business on the other end of the castle and their colleagues down the hallway have found themselves quite occupied by the errands my colleagues have them run.’

This was probably just bluff, because Merlin was quite certain that those guards were still somewhere near and not at all sent away. Should Agravaine choose to test this he would know right away.

‘And if you think that appealing to your king is going to help you now, let me tell you that it was said king who authorised this little meeting in the first place.’ Ros was still completely comfortable, playing Agravaine with practised ease. ‘You see, he doesn’t quite trust you anymore. It may have escaped your noble notice, but he trusts Lucas, quite a lot. After all, how can he not trust the man who saved his life at huge personal risk? So, you are going to sit down and tell us bloody well what you have been up to for the last year and you might just walk away from this with your life. Lie to us and we might not be that considerate.’

The notion of the Section Chief being considerate was quite ridiculous. The memory of her dropping steaming hot coffee in Hogan’s lap was still very vivid in Merlin’s mind. This woman did not have many limits when it came to getting what she wanted, if she had any limits at all.

Arthur on the other hand was bristling with rage. Ten to one that he did not approve of what was going on here, even if he kept his mouth shut for now. Merlin suspected that he knew that Lucas was right, but just was very reluctant to accept it, because in truth he did not want to accept it. It was understandable. It was also a very dangerous attitude. His trust in Lucas had proven to be justified, his trust in Agravaine would soon turn out to be anything but.

‘We have to put an end to this.’ The tone was nearly pleading. Nearly.

Harry shook his head. He at first had been not too enthusiastic about this turn of events either, but in the end he had to admit that this was the best way to deal with the matter at hand. Agravaine wasn’t going to make a mistake if he was not getting backed into a corner the way he was now. He had made hardly any mistakes at all before now and the things Merlin had found out about him were not enough to condemn him. Anyone with a bit of intuition could tell that that man was up to absolutely no good, but there was just not enough evidence and that was what they sorely needed here.

‘Let them,’ he ordered. His gaze was fixed on the scene that unfolded in the bowl of water, focused and alert. He was not going to let Agravaine slip through his fingers and neither was Merlin. The only thing they still needed was the evidence and he did not really doubt anymore that they would soon have that. Ros and Lucas were deadly together, operating as if they had been doing this for years. Agravaine did not stand much of a chance against them. It really was only a matter of time before the nobleman inevitably would cave in.

‘You would not dare.’ Agravaine was still pretending to be very indignant about it all.

‘There’s very little we do not dare,’ Lucas informed him coolly. ‘Very much you it would seem. Plotting to overthrow the kingdom, scheming to crown a queen who has no right to the throne…’ He let his voice trail off.

‘Sir Lucas, I must ask of you to stop this immediately!’ It was hard to make out if the nobleman was only angry or panicking. Or maybe he was both.

Lucas ignored that. ‘What were the exact words again? Oh yes, I remember now. _Camelot is ripe for the taking. Arthur sent a message that he has gone away for some time and there’ll be no telling when he will return. The council is eating out of my hand now. If you were to invade today, the throne would be yours_.’ Lucas imitated the voice of Arthur’s uncle almost perfectly.

And the last bit of blood drained from Agravaine’s face.

 

***

 

Ros could hardly suppress the feeling of triumph that was threatening to overtake her when she saw the man on the other side of the table pale considerably. Lucas’s words had hit home. It wasn’t the first time the Section Chief was grateful for her colleague’s photographic memory and it certainly would not be the last time either. Right now it was only too obvious that Agravaine was properly scared. He could no longer keep up the façade of the helpful nobleman now that he realised that he had been recognised and overheard. The there-has-been-a-mistake-excuse would only be more feeble now and Ros had not even believed it to begin with. A certain Samir had repeated the very same words over and over again, but in the end he had talked. And this man opposite her would talk as well.

‘So with that little issue out of the way, talk.’ The sentence had started in an almost friendly manner, but by the end of it her voice was little more than a snarl. This man hadn’t harmed her personally, had not harmed any of her team personally, but he did support a woman who did those things and he had not lifted a finger when her colleague’s life was in danger. He had seen it happening and done nothing. In Ros’s opinion that was quite enough to make her hate him. Passionately.

And she hated betrayal. She had done it herself and it had gotten her absolutely nowhere. She had not been able to get her revenge on the Americans, Zaf was dead and she herself on the run with just that one bag to take with her. Six months in exile in Moscow had at least made her learn her lesson, made her see how much damage this did. And she at least had a good reason to act as she had. This man on the other side of the table did not have a reason. The only reason he had was that he was madly in love with a woman who could have been his daughter. She might even have some understanding for it if Morgana had felt the same way, but that was not even the case. In the Section Chief’s eyes, that made this man as pathetic as they came and she had no patience for that.

Agravaine clearly had no clue as to how he should behave now. It was slowly dawning on him that he was not going to walk away from this unscathed. His cover had been blown wide open and any excuse he could come up with would easily be brushed aside. At least he seemed to realise that. He was an intelligent man.

‘We should talk about this.’ There was nervousness now as well and Ros half expected him to start wringing his hands.

‘No, _you_ should talk,’ Ros corrected. She felt impatient and frustrated. Agravaine was not the one she bloody well wanted to punish. He was just Morgana’s lap dog, and, so very like Samir, not even a very big fish in the pond. He was a foot soldier, Morgana was the player. Hogan had basically been the same. Yet the big fish kept eluding them. But to get to the big fish, they needed to get this man to talk. _So get a bloody grip, Myers, and get on with it._

‘The thing is, you were seen.’ Lucas took over again. How he was able to stand there in as relaxed a pose as he stood, arms folded across his chest, leaning against that column, was entirely beyond Ros. ‘And I remember everything you said to Morgana. And Arthur believes it.’

There was a short silence. It was a tell-tale sign that Arthur hadn’t barged in with a denial of those words as he would have done only a few minutes ago. The king of Camelot was not so sure anymore. About bloody time too. They had been beating around the bush for far too long. Ros appreciated the fact that they had been allies during the last operation, but right now she wanted to bang his head against a wall for not going with the facts, for ordering them to go easy on the traitor. They were wasting precious time here. Morgana was still out there somewhere and they had no idea where to.

She picked up where Lucas left off. ‘So, you can fill in the blanks for us. And you better start now.’ Good grief, she wished she had just been authorised to really turn the screws on this man, really get him to talk, although she would not do so with Lucas in the same room. He was good at talking people into knots, one of the best interrogators they had these days, but he was highly uncomfortable around the more physical treatments that were in Ros’s opinion just another part of the job, a necessary evil to ensure the national security. Maybe being on the receiving end of such a treatment had a way of changing people’s minds on the subject.

‘Ask him how he learned about Emrys,’ Merlin’s voice suggested through the earpiece.

Ros didn’t know how this was going to help them get a confession, but the warlock sounded very sure of his case, very confident. And while the Section Chief was not exactly anxious to listen to anything he said, spy’s instinct told her to run with this one. ‘You could always start by telling us where you learned the name Emrys.’

‘It’s only known to the druids and Morgana, apart from Gaius and me and we have never shared it with anyone.’ Merlin now kept up a steady supply of information in their earpieces. ‘And I don’t think he will have gotten it from the druids, because they are still outlawed and Agravaine would not know where to find them, so he’s got to have it from Morgana. But he knows the name, because he asked Gaius about it, and I was there as well.’ He should really learn to talk slowly, but at least they had gotten quite enough information to work with.

Someone on the other end was gasping and Ros suspected Arthur was the source of it. If they got this little trick to work, then that might be the break-through they so desperately needed. It at least seemed to make Arthur realise that maybe things weren’t as he hoped them to be. About bloody time.

Agravaine meanwhile was back to playing ignorant. ‘I have never heard of that name before, my lady.’ Clearly he thought they were back on safe ground again.

‘Really?’ Lucas abandoned his position near the column in favour of leaning over the table, making the nobleman a tad bit uncomfortable. ‘We have two witnesses saying something else. Very reliable witnesses, very insistent about it too.’ He smirked at Agravaine. ‘You _do_ know the name.’

The look on the nobleman’s face spoke volumes. The lack of protest did the rest.

Her colleague now slowly started pacing, eyes never leaving Agravaine for longer than a few seconds. He was good at this and Ros tried and failed not to feel some measure of annoyance at that. ‘You see, there are really only two groups that know this particular name: the druids and Morgana. Now, the druids are not welcome here in Camelot. Very secretive people, from what I’ve heard, not very keen on sharing information, especially not with an outsider like you. That really leaves us with only the one option.’ There was another silence. ‘You better start talking, because right now everything points to you.’

Agravaine demonstratively kept his mouth firmly shut. In Ros’s experience that was often as good as a confession anyway. But that did not really matter here, not to her. It told her nothing she had not known already. In the long run she wanted to get Morgana’s location out of him. And since he would probably not spill the beans on that, they needed a spoken confession. Hopefully that would sway Arthur’s mind, enough to give them permission to really work at him. Because unfortunately this was not Thames House and basically it was Arthur in charge here, but she was happy that he was not her boss back in London, far too soft-hearted for the job. He could not make the hard decisions, making him not only unsuitable for the job, but also for his current position as king.

She got up as well, finally getting enough of these far too hard chairs. They would benefit from some cushions. ‘Okay, so don’t talk,’ she shrugged. ‘We can and will make this process a lot more painful for you should you choose to remain uncooperative.’

Lucas was now back at the column again, leaning against it. ‘Or,’ he said with that smile on his face that Merlin tended to call creepy. ‘We can talk about what you thought you were getting out of this particular arrangement. What was it? Money? Power? Your very own happily ever after with the Lady Morgana at your side?’

If Ros were the kind of person who would bet, she tended to go for the last one, although she would not rule out the second option either. Agravaine was the kind of person who liked to be in control. He had tried to make them do his wishes, unsuccessfully of course, but he had tried. And he had boasted to Morgana about having the council eating out of his hand. But according to Lucas he had mostly been trailing after Morgana like a lovesick puppy, swallowing everything she threw at him. Agravaine apparently was a hopeless romantic and Morgana was using that to her advantage.

Something flashed across the lord’s face, alarm probably. ‘Sir Lucas, I really must ask you to stop this nonsense at once.’

Lucas ignored him. ‘What did you think, that she was going to marry you after she had taken Camelot? That she was going to remain loyal to you?’ Lucas snorted. ‘She doesn’t think you’re worth anything. That’s how she deals with her allies, you see. When they are no longer of value to her, she drops them, abandons them.’

Ros could see that Agravaine was on the verge of saying something, but he could bite it back just in time. But the reaction was there. Lucas had gotten right under his skin. It must be something about the men in this kingdom, Ros supposed. As soon as women were assaulted, if only verbally, they went into full knight-in-shining-armour-mode, standing up for the delicate female who was supposedly incapable of defending her own honour. As annoying as that was when she was the supposedly delicate female, it would now do very nicely to get this man to talk. And talk he would. It was only a matter of time.

The quick smirk on Lucas’s face told her that he knew it too. ‘Do you know what happened to the last man that was of no more use to her?’ he inquired casually. ‘She abandoned him, left him at our mercy. That man… well, how to say it? He will never see daylight again. He had outlived his usefulness and Morgana doesn’t care for people who can’t help her achieve her goals and well, I think once you are locked up, she’ll have no more use for you anymore either.’ He didn’t point out the similarities between Hogan’s case and Agravaine’s own, but he didn’t need to. Arthur’s uncle was an intelligent man. He should be able to connect the dots himself. And he would. Of that Ros had no doubt.

It was however not quite sure yet if he chose to believe them, so the Section Chief decided to apply some extra pressure. ‘No, I don’t think she as much as turned her head when we finally got our hands on her latest ally. I think she was rather glad to be rid of him actually. And if I were her, I’d be all too glad to be rid of you as well. Come on, Agravaine, you’re an intelligent man. Has she ever at any point in time acted like she cared for you?’

She did it. She knew it before the last words had even left her mouth. There was a flash of doubt in his eyes. It was the tiniest flicker and then it was gone again, but it had been there. They were on the right track. And Ros had been in the Service long enough to know that the nobleman was close to breaking. And that without them needing to use some of the more desperate measures. They could be proud.

‘That’s not possible,’ Arthur’s voice came through the earpiece. It sounded more like a desperate wish than actual denial and Ros had to work hard to suppress the urge to tell him to get over himself and bloody well grow up already. This wasn’t some kind of noble world. This was the real world and in the real world people did things like this. Some realism certainly would not hurt the king of Camelot.

Because this certainly was possible. ‘Because she doesn’t,’ Ros pointed out. And although she hated Morgana, she could not blame the witch for not wanting to do anything with this pathetic excuse for a man. She might even be grateful for it, because the way things were looking now, Morgana’s rejection was just the thing that was going to break him. And that was what they needed, the sooner, the better. ‘She calls you names, turns down your advice… Tell me, has she ever even pretended to be interested in what you had to say?’

His silence was all the confirmation she needed.

‘She didn’t,’ the Section Chief concluded. ‘So what exactly makes you think she will bloody well care to take the trouble to get you out now?’

Lucas snorted. ‘She’s escaped to the Isle of the Blessed, plotting her next move. I don’t think she will spare you so much as a thought now. She won’t risk her safety for rescuing someone she doesn’t even care for.’

Ros swivelled her head in her colleague’s direction. Isle of the Blessed? Did he know where Morgana had gone to? Then why on earth had he not told them? _Well, maybe you should have bloody well asked him_ , a voice in the back of her mind commented dryly. They had been so focused on getting Agravaine to loosen his tongue that they had forgotten completely that Lucas still needed to be debriefed. Ros suspected that Lucas hadn’t minded much that that still was delayed. He hadn’t been comfortable with the debriefing after his release from Russia either. Like then, he wanted to get back to work as soon as he possibly could and Ros hadn’t protested the notion because he was bloody good at what he did and they needed him if he thought he could handle it. Apparently he could. She would know better than to think she would have succeeded in getting Agravaine backed into a corner on her own without his information.

Agravaine reacted entirely different. He was on his feet, glaring at them. ‘She will come for me!’ he growled.

The Isle of the Blessed issue was forced to the back of her mind again now that Agravaine finally made a mistake, as they had been waiting for him to do ever since they had started this interrogation. He had finally admitted that he had a link to Morgana, something that was old news to the spooks, but clearly not to Arthur.

‘It’s true,’ the king of Camelot breathed in her right ear.

Agravaine now realised his mistake as well. Shock was written all over his face, but of course it was now far too late to take his words back. He had been jumpy for quite some time now, but their stinging remarks had been getting at his already frayed nerves and he had snapped. Ros had seen it happen with almost countless suspects before. But sometimes it were the tried and tested ways that got the best results.

‘My lady, I must apologise,’ the man blurted out. ‘I don’t know what came over me. I…’

Ros snorted dismissively. ‘Save your breath,’ she told him. ‘Harry, Arthur, kindly send the guards in to take this garbage to the dungeons.’

Agravaine was still sputtering his protests when the guards did come in to lead him away, but Ros wasn’t listening anymore. They had gotten Agravaine to slip up and they had gotten Morgana’s location. For just this once she could feel pleased with herself. And she didn’t need to concern herself with this waste of space anymore. She had a bloody evil witch to catch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time plans are being made and Arthur talks to a certain traitor. In the meantime, comments would be very much appreciated. I’d love to hear your thoughts.


	42. Chapter 42

Arthur knew this was a bad idea. He knew that it would be no good for his peace of mind, but he couldn’t not do it, for the same peace of mind. He needed to know, needed to see for himself. Guinevere had told him there was no need for it in her very own gentle way, Merlin had told him it was a stupid idea and Ros had pointed out that there was absolutely no bloody need for it, but Arthur was adamant. This was something he ought to do. If anything, he owed Agravaine for all the good things he had done as well. True, he had always been striving to help Morgana to win the throne and crown, but he had given Arthur good advice as well, even if it was for all the wrong reasons. The king owed him for that. After that he would wash his hands of his uncle, that he promised.

But now, standing at the entrance of the dungeons, plucking up the courage he felt he needed if he wanted to face his uncle, he could not even bring himself to hate the man who had betrayed him, and all that for the love of Morgana. It was bitter, extremely bitter to swallow, but still Arthur could not bring himself to truly hate Agravaine, or even feel too angry at him. He felt disappointment, yes, and a measure of resentment and regret as well, but anger, righteous anger, was not all that present and it frightened him, if only a little. At any rate he did not believe it was the natural reaction to have to this, but he couldn’t help himself. It had been the same when he had found out about Morgana’s betrayal. It wasn’t any different now that it was his uncle, whom he had trusted almost unconditionally until a few hours ago.

That trust was destroyed now. There was no way it could have survived that blow of Agravaine’s treason. Because that was something that could not be overlooked any longer. He had given it all away by jumping to his feet, claiming that Morgana would come in to rescue him. That had told Arthur  everything he needed to know, not what he wanted to know. He’d have liked nothing better if Lucas had been mistaken, if his observation was just something that was the natural result of being nearly tortured to death. But the proof was there and Arthur had to go with that.

And he could not allow Agravaine to walk free. He would be putting the entire kingdom at risk by doing that. And there was the law to think about. As a king he didn’t think he was above the law. He made them, yes, but once they were effective, he ought to live by them. _The law stands or this kingdom falls_ , his father had once said and his son agreed. It was the only way a kingdom could be ruled and the law dictated that he sentence his uncle-gone-traitor to death.

He took another deep breath, told himself to get a grip – even when the mental voice saying that sounded remarkably like Ros Myers – and entered the dungeons properly. He was not a child that could run from the things that frightened him anymore. Arthur could not even say why he feared confronting Agravaine that much. The man was behind bars, could not possibly cause him any bodily harm and was there anything he could say that could make his nephew hurt more than he already did? Said nephew seriously doubted that.

The guards nodded at him and the king of Camelot managed a curt nod in return. It was the right thing to do. Even with his mind in turmoil, he still had to act as the king. In London he had been just another officer, but here he was the king and he had not realised what a burden that could be until it was placed on his shoulders anew. It made him almost wish he could have stayed in the twenty-first century a little longer.

Agravaine had been placed in a cell as far from the entrance as possible and Arthur caught himself deliberately walking as slow as he could in order to delay the eventual confrontation as long as he possibly could. Tomorrow Agravaine would be executed and that would be the end of it. Harry had stressed that it could be useful to get any more information out of him, but Arthur had overruled him – a strange notion in and out of itself, since he had gotten used to Harry calling the shots. He wanted Agravaine gone, not necessarily dead, but gone. He just never wanted to risk getting betrayed again. And in his opinion they had everything they had needed from him. In truth, he just didn’t think he could handle knowing the full extent of his uncle’s crimes. Of course this was a detail he had not shared with the spooks. He could already hear Ros’s voice scolding him for being a sodding child.

‘Agravaine,’ he greeted curtly when he stood before the cell. Arthur would never be heard to call that man uncle ever again. He had lost the right to such a title the moment he had betrayed the son of his beloved sister to said son’s mortal enemy. Such a man wasn’t family.

The traitor had seated himself on the straw bed on the far end of the cell. He had not seen or heard Arthur approach – and if he did, then he did not show it – but he looked up when he heard his name. ‘What do you want?’ The friendly man had gone, leaving a cold and calculating man in his place. The hostility practically radiated off him. Had the kind uncle only ever been a mask, Arthur wondered. He found he wasn’t particularly anxious to find out the answer to that question. Sometimes it was just better not to know.

But the cold tone reminded him of the resentment and disappointment he himself felt. The anger came into play as well now. ‘I think that is a question I should be asking you,’ he shot back. It frightened him a little to know that he sounded just as cold and unfeeling as the Section Chief now. ‘Why did you do it, Agravaine?’

The shutters came down. ‘I don’t owe you an explanation.’

‘Yes, you do,’ Arthur argued. He didn’t care if he sounded like a child. There was no one here to overhear them and if the guards accidentally heard something, they would know better than to spread the news. It was a part of their job to keep the king’s secrets and they were good at it. ‘I trusted you and you betrayed me to my worst enemy.’ Because that was what Morgana had become. ‘You owe it to me to at least tell me why you did that.’

That was after all the reason he had come down here in the first place. Arthur had no interest in what it was that Agravaine had done – he was positive that it would include a lot of things that he really did not want to know. He only wanted to know why his uncle had done all these things. He needed it, even when he could not quite determine why he needed it.

‘Then why don’t you ask your new friends, Arthur?’ The tone of voice was cynical and bitter, but Arthur tasted defeat there as well. If Agravaine did believe that Morgana would come to free him, he did not show it. Agravaine sounded beaten, not as if he had any hope at all. It was as if he had resigned himself to his fate. But still he had no regrets, that much was obvious.

Arthur had to force himself not to start screaming or do something else equally stupid. ‘So it is true?’ he demanded, trying to keep his voice as calm as he had before now. ‘You are in love with Morgana?’ That was something he could hardly bring himself to accept. It didn’t sound like something Agravaine would do. But then, how well had he known the man he had called his uncle? It became increasingly clear that he knew nothing at all. ‘It is true that you’re in love with her?’

Agravaine did not bother with an answer.

Arthur’s hands clenched themselves into fists without the king giving them permission to do so. ‘That cannot be all, can it?’ He heard the desperation in his voice and sincerely hoped that Agravaine had not heard it. But he was desperate, hoping and praying for an explanation that would make more sense than this insane one. He had hardly believed it when Lucas had explained it and he was no more willing to accept it now that the nobleman had as good as confirmed it. There had to be something else, there just had to be.

Agravaine’s head snapped up. ‘Of course there is.’ His normal calm composure lay in pieces and he practically barked his reply at his nephew and king. ‘Did you honestly think that I could feel any affection for the child that killed my sister?’

That was it? That was the true reason his uncle had turned on him, had abandoned him in favour of his half-sister? Arthur could feel the bile rise in his throat and he was torn between spitting on the floor in anger or throwing up on it in disgust. ‘I did not choose that.’ He hated the fact that all of a sudden he did not seem capable of speaking any louder than a whisper.

‘It doesn’t change what happened to Ygraine.’ The hate was unmistakable now, even as it was laced with sadness, for Ygraine’s death, no doubt, not for its effect on her son.

‘Do you blame me for being born?’ How could he ever persuade this man that whatever happened then was not of his making? How could anyone blame a child for causing his mother to die? Arthur had longed to know his mother from the moment he had realised that he hadn’t one and other children did. That was perhaps why Morgause had had such an easy job of luring him to her that first time; she had promised him to tell him about his mother. And now Arthur found himself wondering if there had not been some truth in the words she had spoken. Arthur had never believed his father to be a saint, and Arthur could imagine that in his darkest moments he would have turned to magic for help in conceiving an heir. Arthur himself had turned to magic when things looked darkest and all the other options had run out when his father lay dying. But the king of Camelot could not believe that his father had willingly and knowingly sent his wife to her death. No, that never.

Agravaine’s eyes sparked with a hatred Arthur had never imagined he would see there. ‘You should not have been born,’ he said curtly. ‘It wasn’t natural. Uther ought to have known.’

This as good as confirmed what Arthur was beginning to suspect about the nature of his birth. It had not been natural, there had been magic involved. He could not say he was terribly surprised. It didn’t change the fact that this was still horribly unfair and like a child he wanted to scream and throw a tantrum and yell that he could not possibly be blamed for this. ‘You blame me for my father’s sins?’

Agravaine would not be the first and Arthur feared he would not be the last either. Some people seemed to be unable to tell the difference between Uther and Arthur, between father and son. Even though Uther was gone, people still attacked Camelot because of the things Uther had done during his life, seemingly forgetting that Arthur had no part in these things. _You’re not as different from Uther as you’d like to think_. Morgana’s taunting voice echoed through his head.

 _Yes, I am_. Arthur squashed it. It was wrong. He was his own person, and he would prove it. It was only a shame he could not have proved it to his uncle before he fell for Morgana’s lies.

‘You still keep punishing the people with magic for your mother’s death.’ Agravaine’s tone of voice was downright venomous. ‘But the true culprit still runs free.’ He snorted. ‘You’re such a hypocrite, Arthur. Do you really think that this was what Ygraine would have wanted?’

Arthur ignored the stab of pain he felt. ‘I only outlaw magic because it has been used time and again to attack the people of this land,’ he replied. ‘I have never once executed innocents. Please tell me, Agravaine, how many people died when Morgana unleashed the Dorocha?’

He failed to mention Merlin on purpose. His servant had made him see that perhaps not all sorcerers were bad, but his mind was not yet made up on the subject. He had seen so many horrors committed by people with magic. Morgana was a prime example of that. She alone had done so much, used her gifts for all the wrong reasons and for all the wrong ends. Arthur had seen what it had done to Lucas, how the spook had suffered because of magic. The Dorocha were just another example. Arthur sometimes still had nightmares about it. It wasn’t the kind of thing one could forget in a hurry.

‘It was necessary.’ There was no doubt that Agravaine fully believed his own words.

And it made his nephew sad. It made him angry and frustrated beyond measure. He had told Merlin that he had lost both his parents to magic, but it would seem that he had lost his uncle to it as well. He would not go as far as to say that it had corrupted Agravaine, because it would seem that Morgana had taken care of that already.

‘I do not even know who you are,’ he whispered, shocked to find that this was the truth. ‘Do you not at all understand me?’

Agravaine’s ice-cold stare was all the answer he needed. No, Agravaine did not understand him, had never done so and nor would he ever in the future. Agravaine was lost to him, Arthur understood, and coming down here had not solved a single thing. If anything, it had strengthened his resolve that he was doing the right thing in sentencing this traitor to die.

‘I do not want to do this,’ he said. And he didn’t. Agravaine was the last living family he had. There was no one else left. Killing Agravaine would leave him all on his own and the thought frightened him, more than he was ready to admit, even to himself. ‘But your actions leave me no choice. By the laws of Camelot I have to sentence you to die.’

Agravaine took the news well, but Arthur knew he had expected it. His uncle was no fool. He would have realised what his fate would be the moment he had been found out. He met Arthur’s eyes defiantly, but he kept his silence. And maybe there was nothing to say for him. He may have sunk low, very low, but he was and remained a nobleman. He would not shout insult at Arthur, nor would he beg for his life. It wasn’t the kind of person that he was.

Arthur knew he ought to go, get away before he said or did something he would surely regret later. But he couldn’t bite back the words that escaped his lips before he could act on his decision to walk away and don’t look back. ‘You may have done it for all the wrong reasons, Agravaine, but you were there for me in a very difficult time and I relied on your advice and experience more than you know. You did help me to become a better leader than I would have been otherwise and for that I thank you.’

His little speech was met by the most indifferent stare the prisoner could muster. ‘Your thanks mean nothing to me.’

Arthur nodded. ‘I know,’ he heard himself say. ‘But you needed to hear them all the same.’

Before Agravaine could even formulate an answer, the king of Camelot all but fled the dungeons.

 

***

 

The atmosphere on the makeshift Grid was one of nervous anticipation. That was one thing that had not changed in the years he had spent in a Russian prison, Lucas observed as he took a chair at the table that was situated in the centre of the temporary headquarters of MI-5 in Camelot. He hardly recognised any faces from then – Harry and Malcolm were the only ones from the old times who were still there – but the excited atmosphere after a major breakthrough in an operation was unchanged. They were closer to catching Morgana than they had been since the barn disaster, as the Senior Case Officer had privately dubbed that botched up operation, and the team was anxious for action, more than ready to put an end to Morgana and her killing impulses.

Lucas glanced around the table, taking in the sight of his colleagues. The team was slightly larger than usual since Arthur had brought in the most trusted members of his council to assist in the matter. The spook recognised Gaius, the physician who had treated him, Gwaine, the knight who seemed to take life in general as a big joke – why Arthur had brought him in heaven only knew – and someone called sir Leon, who had been in charge of arresting Agravaine after the nobleman had finally made a mistake. Arthur and Merlin themselves were present too, the former rather subdued and unusually quiet after he had gone to meet with his uncle one last time.

Ros was visibly annoyed with the presence of so many people who were not part of the team, if the venomous stares she favoured Gwaine with were any indication at all. Lucas found that he could not be surprised. If even half the stories he had heard about that knight were true, then he relentlessly pursued every good-looking female and Ros Myers was not exactly ugly. Ten to one that he had already tried something. That would explain the glares.

Harry would have taken his usual place at the head of the table, were it not so that there was no head of the table to be found. For one reason or another Arthur had thought it to be a good idea to have a round table brought to their headquarters and the irony of this had not escaped any of the spooks’ notion, Lucas was sure. Now the king of Camelot only needed to place one in his council chamber and they would have a reason to justify the legend as it was known in the twenty-first century.

Ros seemed to have read his mind. ‘He should have placed that bloody table somewhere else,’ she hissed at him while Harry was wrapping up his discussion with Malcolm about some technological matter.

He grinned back at her, secretly grateful for the chance to joke around a little. They needed it with everything else that was going on at the moment. ‘Ah, come on, boss, don’t you believe in equality?’

The Section Chief reacted with a very unladylike snort. ‘The day I start believing in the tooth fairy and coincidence.’

‘Figures,’ he chuckled. Ros was used to being the one in charge. Listening and doing as she was told were not her greatest qualities, but she was a good boss, so Lucas wasn’t about to complain. And she was a colleague and they were okay, even if they clearly did not believe in everything the French Revolution stood for.

Harry interrupted their bantering. ‘Right, people.’ He may not be at the head of the table, but with everyone else sitting down it was enough for him to just stand up to get everyone’s attention and convey the message that he was the one in charge here. Unconsciously he had slipped into army commander mode, staring down at them as if they were a bunch of exceptional stupid soldiers, although Lucas found it hard to argue with that as he watched Gwaine lounging in his chair. ‘Lucas, you said you know where Morgana had gone off to?’

He knew it would come to that eventually and he knew it meant that he had, once again, place himself back there in order to remember what had been said and done in that hovel. It almost made him shudder, but he suppressed it. He would not give Harry a reason to pull him off the case like he had done before.

He hid behind the mask of the calm and relaxed spook, willing himself to remain calm as he answered. ‘The Isle of the Blessed,’ he said. ‘It was only mentioned briefly, but she said she would go there, because she believed that not even Emrys would dare attack her there.’ He was glad that it had only been mentioned so briefly, so that he could pull himself away from the memory before it triggered a full-blown flashback. That would not be the best way to convince Harry that he was still capable of doing his job. He needed to stay on top of this.

‘No offence, but who is this Emrys fellow?’ Gwaine was still lounging and now Ros’s eyes settled on him with an expression that betrayed that she would like nothing better than to grab him by the back of his cloak to straighten him up. To be honest, it surprised Lucas that she had not done so already.

‘Some bloody old sorcerer with a ridiculous long beard and appalling manners,’ Ros said dismissively. ‘You know him as Dragoon the Great.’ Lucas was surprised that she actually kept Merlin’s secret. Normally she would have discarded such a sentimental idea in favour of choosing the most effective way to do the job.

‘You met him?’ Gwaine sounded incredulous. ‘And he didn’t use you as a glorified footstool?’

‘Can’t bloody well blame him for using that sodding excuse for a knight as one,’ Ros muttered, but fortunately for everyone Arthur’s comment drowned out the sound and only Lucas heard. He tried and failed not to smirk. He may not be very fond of Merlin, but the warlock did have a nice sense of humour.

‘He’s on our side, Gwaine. He saved us from Morgana when we went in to rescue Lucas.’ The king of Camelot managed to conjure up a dismissive tone, effectively preventing Gwaine from talking again, which was probably best for Ros’s nerves. ‘I know we had our… differences in the past, but he does mean the best for Camelot.’ He only just avoided sending a pointed look in Merlin’s direction.

Gwaine shrugged, simply accepting the situation. Maybe that was one of the advantages of this knight. He wasn’t one for making trouble. The only one who did not seem pleased with this turn of events was Leon. ‘Sire…’

‘This is non-negotiable, Leon,’ Arthur told him sternly. Someone really ought to tell him that copying Harry’s lines was not always the best way to deal with things. It was far too obvious who he stole them from in the first place. ‘There may have been some problems, but they are solved.’

Leon was apparently content with that. It reminded Lucas that life in this day and age was vastly different. No one in Britain would have taken someone’s word for such an important thing like that. Leon just followed his king without questioning it. Well, he had, but he had backed down pretty quickly.

‘Enough of that,’ Harry said impatiently. ‘Where is that sodding Isle?’

‘A few days’ ride from Camelot,’ Arthur reported. ‘And it will be very difficult to get there, impossible to get there without being seen. There’s only one small boat and some ferryman. Morgana will be able to see us coming from miles away.’

‘If she doesn’t spy on us magically first,’ Ros chimed in, giving the probably very accurate impression of someone who was ready to kick something, or someone. ‘Charming.’

‘And there are wyverns too,’ Arthur added. ‘Last we were there they tried to attack us.’

‘Isn’t that just bloody brilliant?’ Ros commented.

Lucas had to agree. It sounded more impossible by the minute. And he reckoned the chances of getting a helicopter to bring them to the place slim to none. Whatever they did, Morgana would know they were coming long before they could get to her and then she would inevitably do a runner again. And if that happened, they had no way of knowing where she fled to this time. The best thing would be to get Morgana while they had the chance. Chances just so happened to be in short supply.

‘My lords, I need to warn you,’ Gaius spoke up. ‘The Isle of the Blessed was the very heart of the Old Religion before the Great Purge. Magic is very strong there and I fear Morgana will find ways to use the power already there to her advantage.’ The old man may be a worryguts if Lucas had ever seen one, but this was indeed bad news.

‘Everything that can go wrong…’ he mumbled.

‘… Certainly bloody well will go wrong,’ Ros finished a little louder, before she rounded on the old physician. ‘Anything else we should be aware of?’

Gaius seemed positively shocked at that kind of language used at him, but he was probably too polite to correct someone he believed to be a lady. Or maybe he had learned already that talking to Ros in such a mood was as good as a death wish. ‘Nothing else, my lady,’ he replied.

‘We’ll need cunning if we want to get to Morgana,’ Lucas heard himself observing. The smallest hint of a plan was slowly coming together in his mind, but even before it was fully formed he knew already that Harry would never authorise it. It was too dangerous and it was all too obvious that he was in no way convinced that Lucas was ready to resume his normal duties.

‘I can go.’ Merlin of course volunteered immediately. Lucas did not doubt the warlock’s willingness to run in and put an end to the witch, especially since he considered her a danger to Arthur. But if the barn disaster had taught them anything, then it was that no matter how willing Merlin was, when it came down to it, he could not bring himself to truly take someone’s life, especially when he knew that person and still had some lingering affection for her. Arthur was much the same, even if Lucas did believe him to be tougher. He had ordered Agravaine’s execution for the next morning and while he looked absolutely devastated by the need for it, he had not hesitated.

Ros had apparently been thinking along the same lines. ‘No bloody way,’ she said immediately.

Merlin sensed what she was trying to say. ‘I won’t fail.’ He looked daggers at the Section Chief.

Said Section Chief was singularly unimpressed. ‘Morgana will do a runner as soon as she recognises you.’ Too late she realised that Gwaine and Leon were not aware of why Morgana would flee when confronted with Merlin.

‘Classified,’ Arthur said quickly. The king must have been thinking the same thing. He had definitely spent too much time on the Grid. One week with them and he was already using spooks jargon. The Pendragon only realised that he had been talking gibberish as far as his men were concerned when he caught sight of their confused glances. ‘Secret,’ he translated.

Leon shrugged, but Gwaine sent an inquisitive look in Merlin’s direction that the warlock pretended not to see. ‘If we are to draw her out, we must give her something to come to.’ Merlin seemed to have given it a fair bit of thought. ‘A bait Morgana cannot refuse.’ For some reason he looked pointedly at his king. ‘You all know she wants me and she wants me badly.’

‘But she’ll expect you,’ Lucas pointed out. His plan was taking shape. Now he only needed Harry to agree. ‘And we need to throw her off balance.’

Judging by the look on Harry’s face he knew where this was heading. The head of Section D was starting to resemble a tomato more and more each second. ‘No.’ It was his non-negotiable voice. ‘I am not sending you back in there, Lucas.’

 _I am sending myself_. ‘I can do this.’ If there had been sand, he’d dug his heels in it. ‘Harry, she’ll be curious. She won’t understand why I’m there. She might even believe she succeeded in turning me.’ And she would not be the first to make that mistake. It had been known to be the end of Arkady Kachimov.

‘Lucas, I am _not_ letting you go to that bloody witch to offer yourself up on the sodding silver platter!’ Harry’s voice steadily rose to a roar. ‘Do you even know what it is you are proposing?’ There was paternal concern in his voice.

Lucas didn’t really doubt that his boss meant well, that he was genuinely concerned for Lucas’s wellbeing, but being treated like this would not get them any nearer to Morgana. Ros would say that he let his feelings cloud his judgement and that was the worst crime anyone in their profession could possibly commit. The Senior Case Officer weighed the chances of saying that and getting away with it, but he decided against it. Ros could do such things, but she was closer to Harry than he was at the moment, closer than Lucas might ever be again.

Eventually he settled for a hard and sarcastic ‘No idea.’

Harry chose to ignore the sarcasm. ‘You are proposing to go to a woman who repeatedly tortured you within an inch of your life on your own, without any back-up?’ He was shocked, Lucas could tell.

And when phrased like that, it did seem reckless. ‘Yes,’ he said, mentally bracing himself for the worst. ‘I can bring her in, Harry, I know I can.’ It might sound presumptuous, but he didn’t doubt his abilities in this case. He had gotten to understand Morgana rather well during the time he had spent – both willingly and unwillingly – in her company. He knew that if he played this right, he could bring her in. And he may be going in alone, but he would not be unarmed. Guns may not be a very effective weapon, but the spook was willing to take his chances. If only Harry would give him that chance.

And he did not seem so inclined. ‘What do you think a psychologist would say about that?’ Harry demanded.

Of course it would come down to that. ‘No idea,’ Lucas snapped, folding his arms over his chest. ‘But I have a feeling it might be in Latin.’

Harry ignored that. ‘They would say you were suffering from a variation of Stockholm Syndrome. You’re somehow still in love with your captor, even though no longer captive.’ The last word was accompanied by a fist on the table.

Lucas was aware that the knights and Gaius were following this with increasing confusion. Stockholm Syndrome was an unknown thing in this day and age – lucky bastards that they were – and Lucas could not for the life of him see Arthur fussing about the mental health of his knights. He found he envied them.

He snorted. ‘And here I was thinking Morgana would make for such an excellent partner,’ he retorted. ‘And they’d be wrong anyway.’ And the only way he could prove his words was if Harry stopped his bloody worrying and let him do what he was paid to do. ‘You want Morgana,’ he stated. There was no denying that fact. ‘Well, I want her too.’ Just not in the way Harry believed. ‘She will not come out for anyone else.’ He took it as a good sign that Harry had not yet interrupted him, so he went on. ‘She feels she needs to get the throne of Camelot and she really needs to kill Arthur. A lot of her hope rested on the operation we’ve ruined. She’s without a plan, without allies, so she needs me. That’s her greatest vulnerability. If I can make her believe that she has turned me…’ He saw his boss wince at the notion, but he ignored it. ‘If I can make her believe that she has turned me, she will follow me out and we can trap her.’

Ros was nodding in agreement, which was a relief. He knew the Section Chief would always let the job come first and right now it had to be their priority to get that witch before she could wreak any more havoc than she had already done.

Unfortunately Harry was not convinced. ‘What makes you so certain she will believe you?’ he questioned sharply.

Lucas didn’t hesitate before answering. ‘Because she needs me. She’s alone and she needs help. She’s not in a position to refuse help when it’s offered to her.’ Morgana may treat allies as pay-as-you-go-phones, but right now she had none and she could not afford to be choosy. She would take what Lucas offered, of that he had no doubt.

There was a short silence. Then: ‘You’re not going in alone.’

It was a victory, if only half a one and that was not yet good enough. ‘I can have back-up nearby.’ That was a compromise, not one he was happy with, but Harry needed it. ‘Harry, I need to get her out and on her own if I’m going to turn her. She won’t take the bait if she knows there are others out there.’

‘He’s right,’ Ros spoke up. To be honest, it surprised Lucas she had kept quiet for so long. ‘She’ll run if we send anyone else in.’

Lucas was grateful for her interference for once. As much as he would love to do this on his own merits, Ros’s opinion carried more weight with Harry. If anyone could convince him to do this, it would be her.

‘Not _you_ as well, Rosalind?’ Harry complained, slamming his fist on the table again. But he was close to giving in. Lucas had known his boss for years and this was one of those tell-tale signs.

So he applied some extra pressure. ‘We have one chance, Harry,’ he said. ‘Only the one. We can either take it now or let her go.’ It was hardly fair to put it like that – even if it was indeed the truth – because there was one thing Harry Pearce could never do. And when he looked at his boss’s face, he already knew what the answer would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a rather difficult chapter to write, but I hope it turned out all right. Please comment?


	43. Chapter 43

It was a sunny morning. For some reason this vexed Arthur. It just felt wrong that it should be such bright weather on the day he had to execute his own uncle for treason.  He hid his head under a pillow to block out the sunlight, as if he could avoid having to get up and do what he needed to do.

Because this was necessary. He did not have a choice in the matter. Agravaine was a traitor, plain and simple, and Arthur could not, would not allow a traitor to walk free. And as a king it was his duty to oversee executions. To not attend would make him look weak and that was something he could not afford. He would have to be there and he would need to keep his eyes on the execution. The very thought made him sick.

He had broken all bonds with his uncle the previous day. He had seen for himself that Agravaine was not the kind and caring uncle he had made himself out to be. He was a “bloody bastard” to phrase it with Harry’s words. Arthur could not deny it and he could not deny feeling angry either. But most of all it just hurt. Betrayal after betrayal. First Morgana, now his uncle. Both were his family and yet both had tried to kill him, overthrow the kingdom for reasons far beyond his comprehension. And for the sake of his own sanity, he hoped they would remain like that.

‘Rise and shine!’ The voice of his manservant interrupted his musings, even under his pillow.

Normally Arthur would think up some kind of scathing but humorous put-down, but today he was all for just the scathing bit. What did he think Arthur was going to do, having a nice day picking daisies? The king of Camelot was fully aware that in the short time he had known the spooks he had picked up an awful lot of their sarcasm and cynicism. Normally this would have bothered him, but at the moment, with so many other things going on, his servant’s returned sunny optimism bothered him, a lot.

‘Merlin?’ he growled, still from underneath his pillow.

‘Yes?’ By the sound of things he was somewhere near Arthur’s wardrobe now, selecting the clothes for the day.

‘Shut. Up.’ To emphasise the words he removed said pillow and propped himself up on his elbows to send a withering glance in the warlock’s direction.

The tone of voice got Merlin’s attention. ‘You’re…. tetchy,’ he observed.

It was just the last straw, Arthur supposed. He had never been a morning person and the very fact that Merlin was being so overly cheerful on the day Arthur had to execute his own uncle did nothing whatsoever to improve his mood. ‘Yes, _Mer_ lin. I have to execute my own uncle for betraying me. That tends to put people on edge.’ Oh dear, he had really spent far too much time around Harry and Ros. It may have been his most grumpy tone, but it were their words coming out of his mouth. ‘So stop being so… happy, will you? You have no idea what this feels like!’

Something about this put the younger man on edge. ‘Don’t I?’ The words came out in a snarl that took Arthur completely by surprise. ‘Are you really as stupid as you look?’

Arthur’s eyebrows shot up. It would seem that he had not been the only one to copy spooks phrases. ‘Merlin?’ he said in a warning voice. Whatever it was that his servant had on his mind, the king was not in the mood to hear it. He was just too preoccupied with his own problems right now. There was no room in his head to deal with Merlin’s on top of that. Besides, he still wasn’t certain what to do with the sorcerer. What had passed in London was not something that was easily forgotten or forgiven. There had been things that perhaps would have been better left unspoken, yet they had been said and they had caused a rift Arthur did not know how to mend. Worse, he did not even know if he wanted to mend it at all.

‘Yes, you’re going to tell me to shut up again.’ Merlin sounded both annoyed and angry, a combination of emotions not often seen on him. Come to think of it, neither of those emotions was often seen on him, apart or together. ‘But just for once can you stop being such an arrogant prat and listen to me?’

This wasn’t like Merlin at all. He had never tried to order Arthur to do anything. Until recently Arthur had believed that his servant had been quite happy being bossed about, had thought it amusing for some stupid reason. At least this struck him dumb for once, giving Merlin the opportunity to say whatever it was that he had on his mind.

‘You are going over every other possibility in your head to try and find one that just might work,’ Merlin began. ‘Because you’re desperately hoping that there is somewhere, somehow an option you just may have overlooked. You’re only doing what you’re doing because those options don’t exist and you have to go through with it, because it’s the best for the kingdom and destiny and duty demand it of you. And you really do not want to do this, because the person you’re about to kill is someone you really care about and you’re not ready to even accept that they have betrayed you.’ All this seemed to come out in one single breath and by the end of his little speech, Merlin was panting.

And his king was staring at the other man as if he had never even seen him before today. What Merlin had just said was summing up Arthur’s thoughts and emotions to perfection. ‘How do you know?’ It wasn’t the most intelligent thing he had ever said, but it was the only thing he could possibly ask now.

Merlin, surprisingly, bit his lip. ‘I had to do it once, a few years ago.’

Arthur was trying to determine whether this explained things or only made them more complicated. ‘ _You_ had to execute someone?’ he questioned, incredulously. ‘Merlin, you’re not a king. How on earth did you get the authority to order someone’s death?’ This was just ridiculous.

‘I didn’t order,’ Merlin clarified, pointedly ignoring Arthur’s eyes. ‘It was Morgana,’ he added. ‘I had to poison her.’

If there had been last remnants of sleep left, they fled instantly. ‘You poisoned Morgana?’ It was louder than he had meant the words to be. And it was only when they had already left his mouth that his brains caught up with his mouth, providing him with the memory of a heated meeting in Thames House.

‘Is it true?’ Lucas had demanded.

Merlin had been studying his cup of coffee with a devotion not often seen. ‘Is what true?’

‘You poisoned her.’ Lucas’s words had been more of an accusation than a question. There had been anger in them.

It had been silent for quite a while after that. Merlin had avoided the stares and the shocked gasps coming from all around the room. ‘That’s beside the point,’ he replied stiffly in the end, eyes still on the coffee cup.

The memory came back to Arthur clear and strong now. They had all taken Merlin’s evasive answer for the confirmation it no doubt was. But things had escalated rather quickly after that and Arthur had banned the conversation to the back of his mind, deciding to save it for another moment in order to focus on the operation. It would seem that today was the time it would all get cleared up. And maybe that was a good thing too.

Merlin nodded. ‘I had to.’

 _Just like you had to thwart Lucas?_ He may have decided to work together with Merlin once again, but it didn’t mean that everything was back to normal. Arthur was still doubtful of Merlin’s motives and methods and even though Morgana now was his mortal enemy, he could not approve of anyone poisoning her. ‘Explain,’ he commanded icily.

‘It was some years ago,’ Merlin began. He seated himself, in the best of spooks’ tradition, on the edge of Arthur’s desk. ‘We were on a patrol to check something out. Morgause approached Morgana and asked for her assistance in bringing down Uther. I think she used Morgana’s fear of persecution as a way to get her on side, but I’m not really sure.’ He was silent for a while, ordering his thoughts, Arthur guessed, so he did not interrupt. ‘Morgause cast some kind of spell on Morgana that made everyone in the castle fall asleep…’

Arthur remembered. He remembered that frightening day when he had come back to Camelot with just Merlin, the other knights and guards having found their end in a dark castle at the hands of what appeared to be undead or immortal knights. He remembered riding into the courtyard, finding all of Camelot asleep. Somehow that had been far more scary than any other danger he had ever encountered. Something about that had scared him. Maybe it was because he was up against an enemy that no sword could help against. How was one supposed to fight off sleep, and a magical sleep at that? Because the fact that there was magic at work was obvious. No illness could have possibly caused this.

He remembered walking through the castle, searching for people that by any chance just may have escaped the spell and were still awake to tell them what had happened, what was still at work. The only one they had found was Morgana, who had appeared scared out of her wits.

‘Morgana was the source?’ Arthur found that hard to believe. ‘But she was scared?’ It came out as a question.

Merlin nodded. ‘I don’t think Morgause had told her what she was doing, so Morgana didn’t understand at first what was happening. She was alone and she was scared. I don’t think that was really what she wanted at the time. But she could not tell anyone of what had happened, because she feared she would be killed then, so she said nothing.’

How Merlin had all found that out was quite beyond Arthur, but he just went with it in order to get the rest of the information out of the other man. ‘How did you know?’ he demanded, one of the few questions he had not heard answered yet. ‘That Morgana was the source?’

‘I asked the Great Dragon,’ Merlin confessed.

‘The same dragon that tried to burn this city to the ground only days later?’ Arthur questioned sharply. If Merlin knew that monster, then that opened some possibilities Arthur did not even want to begin to consider. ‘Merlin, are you saying…?’

‘He told me Morgana was the source of the spell.’ Merlin went on so quickly that Arthur did not even get the chance to finish his question, thus confirming every suspicion Arthur had. ‘And he also said that the only way to break the spell was to kill her, because it was tied to her life. I still don’t understand how that worked exactly. It was a very complicated charm Morgause had used and I could not remove it myself.’ He was starting to ramble now, trying to justify his actions. ‘I didn’t want to, Arthur, but then we were starting to get drowsy and those undead knights showed up and…’ His voice trailed off and his eyes dropped to his boots, obviously ashamed of his own actions.

Arthur knew exactly what the situation had been like. He had thought that the only way they would all be able to live through that was if a miracle would happen. But miracles seemed to be in very short supply. When the knights suddenly had fallen apart and the castle had woken up, that had been the miracle he had been hoping for. The mystery of how it had come to be that way had never been solved. Now he was close to finding out the truth, but it was a very ugly truth indeed.

‘So you poisoned her.’ How he managed to sound as calm as he did was beyond him. He just was. Maybe he was beyond anger for Merlin’s actions now that Morgana had turned out to have betrayed him in the way that she had.

Merlin nodded. Were those tears in his eyes? ‘I poisoned the water in the waterskin, then pretended to drink from it myself to take away her distrust.’ He bit his lip so hard it started to bleed. ‘And then I offered it to her. She didn’t want to drink, but I insisted and she drank.’ It was silent for another moment. ‘I held her in my arms while she lay choking and then Morgause barged in. I made a deal with her. She would lift the spell and I would give her the name of the poison so that she could try to save Morgana.’

The silence lasted longer this time, a lot longer. So many things started to make sense now, including Merlin’s harsh and snappy remarks about knowing exactly what Arthur felt like right now. Merlin and Morgana had been friends before Morgana had changed her allegiance. Arthur had even believed that there had been something more going on between them. And judging by Merlin’s expression it had broken his heart to do what he had done then, no matter what he himself thought about it.

It explained so many things and at the same time it spoke again of Merlin’s attitude. He had shown that he had no limits when it came to protecting Arthur in London. He had rather given up Lucas, even though he had been innocent of the things he had been accused of. Morgana had been a friend, unsure of what was even happening to her. She might even have been looking to Merlin for help and guidance, if their bond really had been as tight as Arthur suspected. And yet he had let her down. He had let her down in favour of saving Arthur and Camelot. Arthur could not even begin to think how much it had cost him.

But even though he would never say this, the king of Camelot took Merlin’s behaviour then – his determination, his sense of duty – as a good example. It wasn’t easy, but running this kingdom was never easy. It did not mean that Arthur would be able to look at his uncle’s execution without difficulty, it didn’t even mean that he approved of what Merlin did and had done, but it did remind him of the responsibilities he had. And they had to come before any personal concerns he may have. That was what it took to be a king.

So hardly two hours later he stood on the balcony as two guards marched Agravaine to the centre of the square. He managed to keep his face neutral and his voice calm as he told the assembled people what the nobleman was accused of and what his sentence was.

Agravaine looked up at him, hate sparkling in his eyes. But he didn’t say anything and in Arthur’s opinion he did not have to. Anything he may have wanted to say had been spoken in the dungeon the previous day. And Agravaine’s words still rang in his head as clear as if they were spoken that very moment. In the end it were the cold words – _It was necessary_ , said in reaction to Arthur’s accusation that the Dorocha had killed so many innocent people – that enabled him to do what needed to be done.

‘Proceed with the execution,’ the king of Camelot ordered. He did not look away as the axe came down.

 

***

 

There was a small chance, Merlin pondered as he saddled his horse, a small chance of this plan actually working, but it was mainly very small and very unlikely. He had followed the proceedings with growing shock, not actually able to believe that this was not some kind of sick joke. They were actually planning on doing this.

When Lucas had first mentioned his plan, Merlin had wanted to protest, only to find that his tongue didn’t seem to be in working order anymore.  He had come to respect the spook for what he had done, enormously so, even if he could hardly bring himself to say so. He could hardly bring himself to talk to the man. It wasn’t like him, he knew. Merlin had become known for his sharp wit and quick tongue in Camelot, but he could simply not bring himself to talk to Lucas, not anymore. And he knew what caused it. He had failed the man. He had accused him of being a traitor, had been ready to do whatever it took to keep him away from Arthur and had eventually let him do the dirty work when he had not felt up to it. And Lucas had paid the price for that failure. Merlin could hardly bring himself to face the man. He was too ashamed of himself.

Naturally Gaius suspected that there was something off. He had told his ward that he could talk about it if he wished, but Merlin had declined and pretended to not notice the hurt in the elderly physician’s eyes at apparently not being trusted enough to relay the entire tale to him as he was used to doing whenever something troubled him. He just could not talk about it, not yet.

It was bad enough that he had failed to kill Morgana twice now, but he also had to deal with the additional weight of Ros’s scorn and Arthur’s obvious resentment. They had set their differences aside for the duration of the operation, but now they were not in some form of immediate danger, true feelings were clearly allowed to resurface and Merlin could not even blame them for it. He had failed, spectacularly.

And now here they were, about to try and pull off the most dangerous mission Merlin had ever embarked on. There were so many things that could go wrong here and he feared that. And mostly he feared that this time it would lead to Lucas’s death. It had been so close the last time and no matter what the spooks thought, this would be just as dangerous, maybe even more so.

And he could just not understand why Lucas _wanted_ – because that was what this was – to do this. He had almost been begging of Harry to let him go in and deal with Morgana. It wasn’t for some sort of noble reason. The warlock would not make the mistake of thinking that. These were spooks. They may be the good guys, but Merlin often found himself questioning their motives and their methods. They were not after Morgana because they wanted to rid Camelot of her presence and they were certainly not doing it out of the goodness of their hearts. It was vengeance, plain and simple. Calling it something else would be a lie. Harry, Lucas and Ros were only so determined to put an end to Morgana because they felt it necessary to kill her as a punishment for what she had done to one of their team.

It was a questionable moral code they operated under, if it could even be called that, but was he really in a position to question their actions when said actions would rid them of the greatest threat Camelot had seen in years? Did their motives matter when the end result could hopefully not be argued with? Did it really matter why they were doing it, as long as it was done?

Common sense told him that he could and had to overlook those things. The operation was far more important, but deep down it didn’t sit well with the warlock. Because if they stooped to the enemy’s motives and methods – revenge and violence respectively – then what right did they have to call themselves the good guys? If they practically became like the people they were fighting, what difference did it make then? It was a question he did not have an answer to, but he knew that he could not voice his concerns. His relationship with Arthur was already shaky at best and he would certainly not take kindly to his servant questioning his actions, especially when said servant’s own actions had not exactly been a shiny example in the past week. _But at least I’ve done what I did for the right reason_. That was a comforting thought. He had never acted out of a desire for revenge. He had only ever used violence to protect Arthur and Camelot.

‘You’re deep in thought, mate,’ a relaxed voice observed and when Merlin swivelled around, he could see Gwaine leaning against the stable door. He was one of the few knights that had been chosen to accompany them on this mission, to Ros’s endless annoyance. The Section Chief had not made it a secret that she thoroughly disliked the friendly knight for reasons only known to Ros Myers herself. It would be a fair guess though that Gwaine’s jovial attitude towards women and life in general had something to do with it.

‘Shouldn’t you be with Arthur?’ Merlin asked. Arthur was currently overseeing Agravaine’s execution, after which their small group would leave for the Isle of the Blessed. The warlock had, after a night of study, figured out a way that would shield every member of their small company from Morgana’s spying gaze as well. It had been an exhausting process and at the moment he was feeling close to exhaustion as a result. What he really wanted was to be left on his own so he could get some rest. He supposed that his chances of getting any were slim to none though.

‘Nah, never fancied the whole execution business.’ Had Ros been here, she would have favoured him with a glare that by all rights should have made him drop dead. ‘Anyway, I was wondering about why Morgana apparently is so scared of you.’

Merlin instantly froze into place. ‘She isn’t.’ The reaction was automatic, but it sounded like an excuse, a lie, even to his own ears. It was just something he said to protect himself. Arthur may know about his magic, but he had no idea if the king was even planning to officially allow it, never mind that he wanted other members of the court to know about it. And even if that would have Arthur’s seal of approval, Merlin did not know yet and lying about his powers had become second nature to him. Years and years of keeping his magic a secret had made lying about it as easy as breathing. And if he revealed to Gwaine why Morgana was scared of him, that might have consequences he did not want to face. The knight was a good friend, but he was at least wary where it came to magic. He, like every other person in Camelot, had seen magic used for all the wrong reasons and all the wrong ends. Merlin could hardly blame his friend for rapidly turning into an enemy the moment he learned that Merlin was a sorcerer himself and had lied about that on top of that.

‘Secret, eh?’ Gwaine took an enthusiastic bite out of an apple he had probably taken from the kitchens without the cook’s permission. ‘Come on, mate, that lady said Morgana would run if she saw your face. I reckon that’s got nothing to do with your very not-dangerous looking appearance.’

Merlin conjured up his most dazzling smile. ‘It’s secret,’ he told his friend, even as he despised the need to lie to his friend.

‘I’ve been thinking about it, though.’ At the moment the knight strongly reminded the warlock of the spooks, sinking his teeth not only in that apple, but also in the problem at hand, trying to work out what the matter was. The terrifying thing was that Merlin thought that Gwaine’s thinking might have turned up more results than he would be comfortable with. The knight’s manners left a lot to be desired, but he was not a fool, not in the slightest. ‘Morgana isn’t really the woman to be scared of any manservant,’ he went on. ‘And last I checked she didn’t have a problem flinging knights out of the way either. The only people she would really fear were the ones who had magic themselves.’

Merlin had turned his back on his friend again, pretending to strap some more luggage to the saddle. That would at least hide his expression of absolute shock. He felt like he had swallowed a glacier whole. He turned all cold on the inside and for once he had no idea what to say or do. Against such an accusation he had no defence, no logical argument. Boldfaced lies would not do him any good either, not if Gwaine had truly worked out the truth. There was nothing he could really say now.

The silence dragged on endlessly. In a strange way it reminded Merlin of the absolute silence after the market bombing. He could even almost hear the accompanying ring in his ears, as if Gwaine had dropped a bomb not only in the figurative, but also in the literal sense. The comparison was appropriate somehow. The only noises breaking it were the horse and the sound of Gwaine still merrily working his way through his apple. He had not yet called the guards, had not yet shouted abuse at him and Merlin did not know what to make of it.

‘It’s true, isn’t it?’ Gwaine insisted, not a thing he often did. The knight was more the type to let things go if it was obvious people did not want to discuss it. It was the kind of person he was. Not today, though.

Merlin forced himself to turn around, fully prepared to beg if that was necessary. He just could not allow his secret to get out, not yet, not without Arthur’s explicit permission. But he didn’t want to physically harm Gwaine or force him to keep his mouth shut. The knight was a friend, at least that was how Merlin saw him. What Gwaine thought of him was harder to determine.

‘I can understand if you don’t want anything to do with me anymore,’ he began. Actually that was a lie, but that was what was expected of him to say, wasn’t it? And maybe, if he had been in Gwaine’s place, he would have condemned the lying about this subject. And Merlin could not blame him for that. He would not like to be lied to either. So if this was to be the end of their friendship, then so be it, but Merlin would bitterly regret it should it come to that.

Gwaine stared at him as if he had grown a second head. ‘What are you talking about, mate?’ he demanded.

Now it was the warlock’s turn to be confused. ‘You want nothing to do with me anymore,’ he said. ‘And I can understand that. I should not have lied to you, I know. All I ask is that you keep my secret. Please?’ The panic he felt at the mere idea of his secret getting out made him plead without him wanting to.

There was a short silence for a few seconds and then Gwaine let out a bark of laughter. ‘You’re a bit exaggerating, Merlin,’ the knight remarked casually. To Merlin’s surprise there was no anger in his voice, no contempt, no hatred. Could it be…? ‘Friends don’t do that.’ He seemed to think about it for a moment. ‘Does the princess know?’

Arthur’s ridiculous nickname brought out the barest hint of a smile. ‘You’re not angry?’ Heaven knew Arthur had been. It had not been right away, but the king of Camelot had been furious later, about the magic as well as the distrust Merlin had displayed. It felt like something of a dream that one of his closest friends took the news as well as he did.

‘It’s brilliant,’ Gwaine said, casually throwing away the remnants of his apple, which were promptly swallowed by Merlin’s horse. ‘Does Arthur know?’

Merlin nodded. ‘He accidentally found out.’ Kind of. It was close enough to the truth anyway. The full story would be a bit difficult for Gwaine to understand. Come to think of it, the knight of Camelot would probably love the twenty-first century, see it as one big adventure. Maybe it was for the same reason that he did not fly off the handle about Merlin’s magic. That was the only sane explanation he could come up with. ‘He… ehm… took it not as well as you did. Not at first anyway.’ What Arthur’s current ideas about magic were only heaven knew. The Pendragon had at least not shared them with either his allies or his servant. Merlin even doubted Gwen would have been told.

Gwaine let out a bark of laughter. ‘Princess was a little shocked, wasn’t he?’ After Merlin’s confirming nod his face split into a massive grin. ‘Can you show me something then? Magic?’

At first he wasn’t sure he had understood this right, but Gwaine looked at him expectantly and Merlin began to think that on second thought Gwaine’s request was exactly what he had thought it would be. ‘You want me to perform magic in a kingdom where it is punishable by death?’ he hissed.

His friend was still wholly unconcerned, still leaning against that stable door as if for all the world they were discussing nothing more interesting than the weather conditions. ‘Wouldn’t be the first time,’ Gwaine pointed out. ‘You have done it before, haven’t you?’

The thought came to mind that Gwaine was not all that stupid when there was no alcohol in him. ‘Yes…’ he replied carefully. _Oh, why not?_ his more rebellious side thought. The cat was out of the bag now anyway and they were alone. He might as well show off a little. ‘ _Forbærnan_ ,’ he whispered, watching with satisfaction as Gwaine’s jaw dropped in astonishment when the small flame appeared in Merlin’s hand. But it turned quickly in a smile and the warlock realised with relief that he had not lost a friend after all. It made him happier than he probably any right to be in the given circumstances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is a day early because I’m having a busy day ahead of me tomorrow and I may not have the time to update then, so I didn’t take any chances.  
> On another note, this story is as of now going up to two updates a week, Saturdays and Wednesdays. It is getting close to the ending now. This tale will be fifty chapters long and I am in the middle of writing chapter 46 now, so things are progressing well.  
> Next time (Wednesday) they will be on the road and an alliance will be made. Until then, please comment?


	44. Chapter 44

Ros Myers would not go as far as to say that this was a mistake, but there was something very unnerving about this operation, not in the last place because it had to be carried out in a medieval kingdom, that did not have any knowledge of special forces, mobile phones or cars. Their transport were the horses that were now assembled in the courtyard and she did not like it. The Section Chief had never ridden a horse, apart from that one minute in the fair when she was six. This would be vastly different.

But the van was out of the question for the obvious reasons, so they would have to make do with this. And catching Morgana was far more important than her fear of being on a horse, which of course she would not call fear to anyone. It was trouble enough to admit it to herself, never mind anyone else.

‘Ready to go?’ Lucas’s voice spoke up. On turning around Ros saw that he was already fully prepared to leave, leading his horse as if he had never done anything else.

‘Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?’ she countered, deflecting his question. ‘You’re the one who wants to go and talk to Morgana alone.’

And it was a  stupid plan, stupid and insane, possibly even suicidal. This was Lucas trying to prove his worth again. For Ros there was no need for demonstrations. She already knew he was bloody good at his job, quite possibly a whole lot better than her if he really was on top of his game. But he was clearly not on top of his game yet. He had done a brilliant job of infiltrating Morgana’s little group, had gathered information about her even whilst being tortured and had successfully interrogated a traitor only the previous day. His record spoke for itself.

The fact however that he was taking huge risks was something that worried Ros and everyone who even remotely knew her could tell that worrying and Ros were not two words to be used in the same sentence. She always said it wasn’t her job to mother her officers and she didn’t do sentiment or regret. It was a setback in this line of work.

But Lucas’s behaviour at least was cause for professional worry, because he was taking a lot more risks than she was comfortable with. It was a strange mixture of trying to prove to Harry that he would still be able to do what it took to do this job, simply doing his job – consequences of that be damned – and wanting Morgana’s head for what she had done to him. Both of those motives Ros could understand. Heaven knew she wanted Morgana’s head as well and if she could be the one to rip it off, she would be satisfied. The risks too were something she understood. It was just a part of the job, something that for both of them always seemed to be the prime priority. The job always came first and everything else was somewhere far down the list.

Maybe it was because neither of them had much of a life outside their work. Lucas’s wife had divorced him while he was in prison and whatever friendships he may have had before Russia had clearly not survived the eight year neglect. Ros’s family had disowned her after she had helped MI-5 to prevent her own father from overthrowing the government, landing him in prison for twenty years, and Adam had recently died. And even that relationship had mostly been based on their work. Maybe that isolation from the normal world was why they both had very little reservations about risking everything for this job.

The strange thing was that Ros was okay with taking those risks for herself. She was in charge and she didn’t have a problem with that. She would never ask of her officers what she was not prepared to do herself. It was quite another thing to indeed ask her team to take risks. And Lucas was taking a risk, a tremendous risk. It could turn out to be the chance they had been waiting for, but it could also prove to be their biggest mistake to date.

‘She won’t listen to anyone else,’ Lucas pointed out. He seemed very relaxed, hardly worried.

‘Yeah, and she might just blow your head off,’ Ros commented. ‘Harry is right, Lucas. You can’t go in there entirely without back-up.’ She had to be careful or he’d notice the concern. And after having successfully established the image that Ros Myers didn’t do emotions other than anger, annoyance and indifference she was not going to risk said image now. ‘You have a sodding death wish?’

She got the charming smile in return. ‘Nah, not really.’ The look became a little more serious. ‘I _need_ to do this, Ros.’

 _I know. Doesn’t mean I have to bloody well like it_. The thing was that if she had been in his shoes she’d want to do it herself as well. She wouldn’t want anyone else to take her revenge for her. She did understand. She just didn’t like it. Because like it or not, Morgana was not their average terrorist with a bomb and if she had a choice, she would choose that kind of explosives over that magical explosion any day. Bombs didn’t scare her anymore. She had seen too many of those to be frightened of them any longer. It was one of the risks of the job. Morgana’s magic however set her teeth on edge. The very thought of sending a colleague of hers into that witch’s lair made her almost jumpy. And Miss Myers didn’t do jumpy.

‘Yeah,’ she said, trying to sound not too dismissive, but not too enthusiastic either.

‘You’re not going to stop me then?’ Lucas asked. He tried to make it sound relaxed and as a conclusion, but Ros had become a spy for a reason. If she had not been able to see through things like that, she would not have been worth her salary.

Lucas was uncertain again, more specifically uncertain about whether or not she approved of the plan they had agreed on, whether or not she would still choose Harry’s side in this. It was her opinion that had swung the balance in Lucas’s favour and it was her opinion that could take this operation away from him. She understood that perfectly.

And she understood the fear for choosing Harry’s side as well. It was a realistic fear, she would have to admit. Harry had been almost more of a father figure than her own father had ever been. He certainly was the closest thing she had to a father now, since sir Jocelyn Myers refused to as much as acknowledge his daughter’s existence these days. Almost without realising she had grown closer to Harry, closer than she perhaps ought to be. She almost never disagreed with him these days, she knew, even when she should. It was not very professional, but Ros firmly pressed the mental mute button on it. This was hardly the time to review her bond with Harry Pearce.

Harry was very much opposed to this course of action though, even more so because he could not come with them. Their greatest advantage on this mission would be speed and secrecy. Harry of course excelled in the last department. It was the first he was lacking in. He knew it and he hated it. He was now chosen, if such a word may be used, to stay behind in Camelot with Malcolm while the field officers joined Arthur, Merlin and some of the knights, including the useless Gwaine, to Ros’s endless annoyance.

‘Would you want me to?’ Ros countered.

‘No.’ The word was determined. Lucas was not going to back down.

But it was the expected answer and Ros had not expected any different from him. Job first, everything else later. Except that this was not about the job, not entirely, for neither of them. This was about revenge. Protecting the kingdom in this case was mainly an added bonus. At the heart of it, this was intensely personal. Unprofessional, she knew. She ignored it.

‘Good,’ she said. ‘And you’d better pull it off. Harry’s going to have a fit if that bloody witch escapes again.’

‘I will.’ The confidence with which those words were spoken wasn’t entirely genuine, but it would have to do for now. They still had some days ahead of them before they would reach the Isle of the Blessed, time enough to refine the plan a little and get rid of the holes in it. Even then it would not be ideal, though, and everything in the Section Chief protested the idea of sending Lucas in there on his own, especially after his recent ordeal. But she nodded her approval and let him go on his merry way to do whatever he thought needed doing before their departure.

Ros stared after him. If she was really honest with herself, she would admit that Harry’s remark about Stockholm Syndrome was not as far off the mark as she would have liked. There was something going on between her colleague and the witch. It wasn’t love, it wasn’t even affection. But she did not rule out a certain chemistry between them. It had been evident in the way they had interacted when Lucas had been undercover with Morgana. And when he spoke of her during meetings, even now, there was a deep level of understanding of the workings of Morgana’s mind. Sometimes it was even laced with a measure of admiration, something that only worried Ros a little further. That understanding of Morgana could be a major advantage and it baffled the Section Chief. But it frightened her too. And she doubted that Lucas was even aware of it. In its own way it was very subtle.

But it wasn’t entirely one-sided either. Morgana was vulnerable too. She was alone now, without allies and on the run as well. Anyone could see that she needed help. And there Lucas would come, offering his assistance. Arthur’s half-sister could not afford to turn his offer down. She needed him too much. It of course did help that Lucas was not as big an idiot as Agravaine had been and he wasn’t exactly unattractive either. And the chemistry was already there. Morgana would be receptive to his charm.

That meant that, had this been a normal operation, she would have decided on a honeytrap. All MI-5 officers hated them, but it was impossible to argue with the results and that was why they still did it. In this case though a honeytrap might not do the trick; Lucas was already emotionally compromised. He may be suffering from Stockholm Syndrome and Ros didn’t want to make it any worse by throwing a fake romance into the mix for fear it might turn into a real one. This was still an operation and while honeytraps usually had the highest success rates, Lucas was still her colleague and, as they had so recently established, they were okay. She could not do that to him.

She was just pondering all this when Harry exited the castle. Like her he had completely disregarded the dress code. He was still in his suit and tie, overcoat draped over his arm since he had not found the time to put it on yet. He attracted a lot of attention like that, but if the Section Chief knew her boss at all, he did not truly care about that, not really. And neither could Ros, as long as no operation depended on what she wore. At the moment it didn’t matter what she was wearing, so she stuck to jeans. Only Lucas had adopted the local fashion.

‘Ros.’ The tone indicated that her boss was worried, something she could not truly fault him for.

‘Harry,’ she acknowledged. ‘What’s up?’ She could guess. This was about Lucas. If the Senior Case Officer had problems with Harry, the boss’s issues with Lucas were roughly the size of the Himalaya. Harry had a guilt complex about Lucas’s stay in Russia and Morgana’s hovel that was huge. He held himself responsible for it and it didn’t help things along that Lucas felt exactly the same about that subject. The result was wariness and resentment combined with a strong urge to prove himself on Lucas’s part and continued attempts to make things right on Harry’s end of the problem. It was about time they put this thing to bed, in Ros’s opinion, but both men were rather sentimental about this, far more than was good for either of them.

‘You’ll look out for him?’ Harry asked.

Ros snorted. ‘He’s a grown man, Harry,’ she pointed out, annoyed. ‘I’m his Section Chief, not his babysitter. Heaven knows I’m doing that for Ben and Jo more than enough. Lucas can watch out for himself.’ This didn’t mean she would not look out for him all the same. She would have done that anyway. Lucas was her colleague. It was in the job description that she took care of those. What she however was not prepared to do was to become a glorified child minder. That was not why she had joined the Service.

‘Ros, he’s vulnerable.’ Harry was very nearly pleading. ‘He’s already been through hell. We owe him.’

 _Tell him that to his face and it might solve a few issues_. ‘Then let him do this. He wants to prove himself. Let him.’

Harry looked at her as if she had grown a second head. ‘You would let him walk straight into danger?’

Ros suppressed the urge to snap at him to get his bloody priorities sorted, but there was a limit to what she could get away with. This was that limit. ‘Someone has to do it,’ she reminded him. ‘Lucas has less chance to be blown to kingdom come than any of us. He’s the best man for the job.’ Harry’s face was still less than pleased, so she added: ‘I won’t let him go in there all on his own, Harry. I wouldn’t let anyone do that.’ Not after what happened to Zaf. They had more or less abandoned him, even if she had not been the one to leave him in the hands of those mercenaries. She could not bear to do that to yet another colleague. ‘We’ll figure something out. I will bring him home.’

That was far too sentimental for her taste, but she had been right in thinking that this was what Harry needed to hear. He gave her a quick smile. ‘Thanks, Ros.’ He patted her on the shoulder, which would have felt condescending if it had come from anyone else, but not from Harry Pearce. He was letting her know he was grateful for her help, for all that it was worth. Ros wasn’t even convinced she could make good on this yet, but she would at least try. ‘Try to come back into one piece yourself,’ he added.

She smiled sardonically. ‘You know me,’ she said. ‘I don’t do dead, Harry.’

 

***

 

It was almost noon by the time they finally were able to leave. It might have been better to wait another day and leave at first light the next, because they would attract less attention that way, but both Arthur and Ros had protested the notion. They argued that they had no time to lose and the sooner they were on the road, the better it would be. So now Agravaine’s execution was out of the way, they left.

And maybe, Merlin thought as he looked at his king, that was for the better too. Arthur needed the distraction that travelling offered. He had been taciturn and unsociable ever since he had first learned the truth of his uncle’s betrayal. It had hurt him deeply, made him wonder who he could trust, if he could even trust anyone. And it was an alarming development. Merlin still was unsure of what Arthur thought about his magic, but he feared that Arthur may not look too kindly on it just yet.

But at least this mission would distract him somewhat. He was riding at the head of the column with Lucas and Gwaine and Merlin thought he could see him smile at a joke the spook had just made when he looked to the side. It was a good thing Arthur and Lucas had become friends, even if the warlock felt it was at the expanse of his own friendship with the king of Camelot. But that was as much his own fault as it was Lucas’s merit. He had made a mistake, a mistake that he was none too eager to repeat. The Senior Case Officer had put his life on the line for Arthur and was about to do so again. And Merlin felt that this time it was up to him to ensure that this attempt to catch Morgana would not end in disaster again.

It would be his way of making amends, he decided, as well as to put an end to the danger Morgana posed for once and for all. She could not be allowed to continue, not after the London operation. It needed to be done, loath as he was to do it, even after everything that had happened. It was for the good of the kingdom, even if that sounded like an empty consolation. The kingdom was no living being that could appreciate Merlin’s efforts on its behalf and Arthur’s way of saying thank you was telling Merlin to shut up.

No, come to think of it, why did he keep on trying so hard when there was never any appreciation for what he did? At first he did it because the dragon told him it was his destiny and because it seemed like the right thing to do. But that had been when there had been very little personal risk. Somewhere along the road something must have changed.

He didn’t do it for gratitude or reward. Had he been wanting either of those he would have given up his attempts to keep Arthur, Uther and Camelot – and at times a combination of the aforementioned three – safe. Neither was he doing this to get back into Arthur’s good books, although he would be lying if he claimed that was not a part of the reason. It wasn’t destiny either, because one can only tolerate so much misery when it is destiny that makes one do something. With something of a shock he realised that the reason he himself had taken such tremendous risks time and again was really only because he was helping out a friend. When it came to Arthur that was not much of a surprise, but it wasn’t Arthur’s safety he was concerned about now. For some reason it were his new allies he was worrying for this time, even if they were vastly different from him. They were cold and calculating and they were far too focused on getting their revenge on Morgana than Merlin thought acceptable, but in a way they had become friends, although that did not include Ros, quite possibly.

But of course it was her help he needed. She was the one in charge. Much as the warlock would have liked to talk to Jo, that was not yet an option. She would tell him he needed to square his plans with the Section Chief first and rightly so.

The point was that Ros had not made it a secret she thoroughly disliked Merlin and she might not welcome the idea of double-crossing Lucas either. In this case though, Merlin thought she would be receptive to his plan, because if Ros Myers had one redeeming quality, it was her absolute and unwavering loyalty to her team. She would not willingly let any of them walk into danger, not when there was still another option. And Lucas would be in danger if he truly decided to go through with this hare-brained scheme. No matter how much warlock and spy disliked one another, in this case they were on the same side. That should be enough to build some kind of alliance on.

He let himself fall back and let his horse fall into step with Ros’s mount. She wasn’t a very good rider, but she had a good horse and at least she knew how to pretend that she knew what she was doing. And he thought better of it than to comment. He had no desire to get on her bad side again before he even launched his idea.

‘Ros, can I talk to you for a minute?’ he asked.

The quick glare in his direction almost made him regret coming to her in the first place, but right now it would probably be best to adopt her attitude towards her work: job first, everything else later. Backing down now would put Lucas at risk.

‘If you have to,’ she said ungraciously, which was really a dismissal in a very flimsy disguise. It was hardly a state secret that Ros disliked him. She may even have good reason to do so. It would however made any possible future cooperation rather difficult.

‘You don’t like me,’ Merlin stated, hoping that he didn’t sound too much like an idiot. But this needed to get out of the way first before they could get anywhere. ‘I don’t like you either. But can we at least be allies?’ It was hard to find the right balance here. Merlin both tried to convey the message that he still did not approve of her manners and methods and the notion that they, despite their differences, needed to work together to make this operation a success. He tried to make it sound like he wasn’t begging, which was hard as well. But the fact remained that he did need her help and Ros, observant woman that she was, knew that. Well, strictly speaking he didn’t need her help, but he had known her for quite long enough that there would be hell to pay if – no, _when_ – she found out he had been going behind her back.

‘We are,’ Ros said, not meeting his eyes. Merlin allowed himself to think this was only because the woman wanted to keep her eyes on the horse. ‘That doesn’t mean I have to like you, though. So, why are you here?’

He should have known he would not get the chance for introductions. That wasn’t like Ros. She wasn’t the kind of person to beat around the bush. She had known all along that he was here for another purpose, because it was for sure that he was not here because he appreciated her company. And he would not have come either to establish that they were each other’s least favourite persons, a thing that was old news to both of them.

‘It’s about Lucas,’ he said.

That had been the wrong thing to say. The icy woman took it as a potential verbal assault on her colleague. ‘What about him?’ Those words alone would have sufficed to make anyone run for the hills without a second thought and that was leaving the tone of voice out of consideration. And that was Ros’s intention as well. She wanted to scare him away.

But this was not the time to be frightened into silence. There was something big at stake here and that had to come before any personal issues, as Ros clearly thought this was. She thought he was only here to voice his doubts about this operation. In a way he was of course, but not in the way she assumed.

‘He’ll be in a lot of danger,’ Merlin pointed out.

That had not been the right choice of words either. Ros’s eyes narrowed and this time she did direct that stare at Merlin instead of the horse, leaving no room for doubt for which person this was meant. ‘Are you done stating the obvious?’ It was ice-cold dismissal again. He half wondered why he had not yet run for it.

‘I mean…’ The mighty Emrys now found himself in a sudden danger of stammering, something he had not done in quite some time. ‘You can’t plan to let him go in alone, can you? You’ve seen what Morgana is capable of! She’ll kill him, Ros. She doesn’t like traitors and she thinks Lucas is one. If she has him within her reach, she’ll not let him go. And he’ll be on that Isle on his own.’ He now was in danger of rambling, which did not count as progress at all in his mind. At least he wasn’t tongue-tied anymore and with a bit of luck he may even have succeeded in telling Ros what he was trying to say.

Judging by the look on her face he had managed to convey the message and for just this once he had the pleasure to see Ros struck dumb. Her face hardly betrayed anything, but there was a hint of surprise in her eyes. It was only a few seconds and then it was gone, but it had been there.

‘I don’t apologise,’ she told him brusquely. ‘Ever.’

It was an apology all the same. Merlin read it as that she would have given one had she not been bound by her own rule. He thought it strange, but said nothing of it. They had some kind of alliance, one that would probably fall apart the moment the mission was done, but he didn’t need it to last longer. He didn’t want it to last longer. He didn’t think he would mind it much if he never saw this woman again when this was all over. Her colleagues were another matter entirely of course.

‘What did you have in mind?’ The question followed the apology-that-wasn’t-an-apology almost immediately. ‘You did have something in mind, didn’t you?’

Merlin nodded. ‘Half a plan,’ he admitted. ‘Mainly how to get onto the Isle without the boat.’

Ros slipped right into work mode. It was what she did. She really practised what she preached. Work came before personal matters with her. No matter how much he disliked the woman personally, he had to admire her for that, that and her willingness to ride to the mouth of hell for any member of her team.

‘There is only the one?’ she inquired.

Merlin nodded. ‘We were there a few months ago and then there was only one small boat, manned by some ferryman who doesn’t really talk. And there are wyverns on the Isle itself. And then there’s Morgana of course.’

Ros gave a curt nod. ‘And you know what to do about those problems?’

‘Two out of three,’ Merlin admitted. Naturally it would be the last problem on the list to be the most trouble. He may be determined to stop Morgana, but if he was really honest, he had no idea what to do about her. Deep down he knew very well he was incapable of killing her in cold blood. The only scenarios where he could see himself do that was if she directly threatened the life of someone he cared about or if they ended up in a duel that had gone badly wrong. It was a problem, but fortunately for him it was the final one. There were two before that.

‘I am a Dragonlord,’ he said. ‘Which means I can control dragons,’ he added when the first revelation earned him a blank look.

‘Dragons?’ Ros sounded a bit sceptical.

Merlin bit his lip. ‘They don’t exist in Britain?’

‘I should bloody well hope not,’ the Section Chief growled. ‘How is your dragon taming skill going to be of use?’

Merlin could not help but feel a little sad at that. He had already known that magic no longer existed in the twenty-first century, but he had hoped that some things had survived the ages, even if there were no sorcerers anymore. And dragons could live to a very high age. If not Kilgharrah would be alive still, then he had hoped Aithusa would be. He had been meaning to try and call for them in Britain once the operation was over, but now he didn’t think he would. He wasn’t sure he could handle the results.

But this was not the time for that. Now they had an operation to concern themselves with. ‘I can call Kilgharrah, the Great Dragon, to fly us to the Isle,’ he explained. ‘That would solve the problem with the boat and if Morgana is kept busy, she might not see us coming.’

‘Hardly inconspicuous,’ Ros commented, apparently not too pleased.

And Merlin had just about enough of it. ‘If you’ve got a better idea, I’m all ears,’ he hissed at her.

Ros did not seem to think this was worth an answer. ‘And those bloody wyverns?’ she demanded. ‘What did you plan to do about them?’ If she was trying to drive the point home that she still had very little faith in Merlin’s abilities, then she was succeeding. And from what she had seen of it, maybe she did not have much of a choice.

But that was in the past now. That had been before he had seen what Morgana was capable of doing to another human being. This time he could not afford to hesitate. And he wouldn’t. The success of this operation depended on it and consequently the safety of the kingdom as well.

‘Wyverns are more or less related to dragons,’ Merlin informed her. ‘I can command them to do my bidding, but the effects won’t last as long as they would on an actual dragon. But I can stop them from attacking us, or Lucas.’ If he was really going to do this, he might need to inform Arthur of these abilities as well, something he wasn’t particularly looking forward to. But job first, everything else later. Maybe he should make it his personal motto.

It spoke for the Section Chief that she didn’t faint or in any way seemed even remotely flabbergasted. She just took the news with a curt nod. ‘I take it Morgana is the problem you haven’t thought about.’ The tone of voice was slightly displeased, which meant that it was safe to say that she probably was displeased. Even though Merlin had solved most of her problems, she still managed to make him feel like an idiot for not finding a solution for all of them.

‘It’s a start,’ he shot back. ‘And we have three days to work out the rest.’ _There’s just no pleasing you sometimes._ Those words had been dying to come out, but there were limits, boundaries he should not cross. He could say such things to Arthur, but no matter how similar Ros sometimes was to the king of Camelot, he could not say them to her.

But they were allies now. The fact that Ros had yet to snap insult at him was proof enough of that. And he should be happy with that for now. Allies was all they ever needed to be. Thank goodness for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be up Sunday instead of Saturday, since I’ll be out of town for most of that day. Sorry it will be a day late, but it can’t be helped.  
> In the meantime, as always, comments would be lovely.


	45. Chapter 45

Travelling in this day and age was definitely something else than Lucas was used to. If anything, it was slower and more tiring than driving a car around, that was for certain. He could tell he was not used to horse-riding by the cramp in his legs. By morning every muscle would ache. He was sure of it. But pain was something he could ignore, easily ignore. Memories were something else altogether.

For now he was merely glad to sit by the small campfire and have some time to think. He was not going to go back on the offer he had made, the offer to go in and try and turn the most dangerous witch in the history of mankind. But it was dangerous. He was aware of that.

Ros believed he had a plan. And he had. It just didn’t reach beyond the point where he arrived at the Isle of the Blessed. And he didn’t think a plan for after his arrival could be made anyway. Morgana was too unpredictable. It would be like that first time he met her: going on nothing, improvising as he went along, just the goal firm in his mind. The rest of the plan was non-existent.

But he had learned long ago that this was the thrill of it. It was dangerous and it was mad, yet it made him feel more alive than he had felt in a long time. Maybe spooks were adrenaline junks. Maybe they had to be to function at all. If Ros however were to find out she would send him straight back to Camelot and take on the mission herself. Colleagues were okay, that’s what they had agreed on, but Ros, he had come to learn, was fiercely loyal to her team and, at times, fiercely protective of her officers as well. She would not let him go in there when he had no plan whatsoever. She might even believe that he was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome already. This was a chance he had been given and it would be up to him to make the most out of it. He wouldn’t get another if he messed this up, that much was sure. Harry and Ros wouldn’t think he was truly on Morgana’s side, but they would say he was damaged and he needed to rest, talk to a shrink. And that was something he would never do. Lucas didn’t think there was a single shrink in existence who would truly be able to understand him, understand what he had gone through. It was not possible for anyone who had not been where he had been to fully understand what it was he had lived through.

And Lucas was not about to quit and admit defeat when it had cost him so much to gain permission for this assignment in the first place. He needed to do this, for reasons he could not entirely fathom himself, not entirely at least. There was an element of revenge worked into it somewhere, that he knew. Morgana had put him through the deepest hell imaginable. And it was only imaginable for him because he had been through it. For anyone else it was impossible to understand what had been done to him and he needed to get back at her for that. He wanted to make her pay for what she had done to him, but he also needed it to show that he had broken away from her influence. It would help him to deal with the aftermath of his captivity, just like bringing down Arkady Kachimov had helped him to bring him some measure of closure after Russia. The memories would not fade and neither would the nightmares, but it did help some.

But this was not just about revenge and he knew it well. This was about proving himself and Lucas hated himself for it. With his head he knew that he had nothing to prove. Harry already knew that the Senior Case Officer’s loyalties lay with Section D and not elsewhere, not with the FSB, not with Morgana. He also knew that Lucas could work under high pressure. Yes, he was worrying worse than your average mother hen, a role that did not suit him at all, but that ought to be Harry’s problem, not Lucas’s.

But things were never that simple and it was because of Harry’s bloody fussing that he now felt like he had to prove a point. And prove it he would. He would bring down Morgana or die in the attempt. It was more than the job now. This was personal, intensely so. And that may be unprofessional in the extreme, but he simply could not bring himself to care. And he should not care either, because things were differently in this day and age. People took things personally more and did not consider that a sin. And they were here now. When in Rome…

‘Lucas?’ It was Merlin’s voice that snapped him out of his musings.

‘Merlin,’ Lucas acknowledged.

The warlock invited himself to sit by the fire. Lucas was not sure what he thought about that, but he let him. Things had been very tense between them since the operation had begun and Merlin had suspected Lucas of swooning at Morgana’s feet almost right away. The spook could see how the servant could have reached that conclusion, truly he could. In the end not even Harry had known whether or not to trust him. Could he really blame the sorcerer for not knowing what to do either, especially since he was not a professional spy? Rationally speaking he could not.

But rational thinking did not seem to have played a large part in this operation at all. It had been about feelings, revenge and proving himself worthy. Cold and calculating thinking had not come into it very much. And if he was really honest, then he would have to admit that Merlin’s attitude was at least disappointing. During the Al-Qaeda op he had proven to be a capable operative, someone Lucas would like to work with more often. He was resourceful, quick and smart and he seemed to understand the need to make the harsh decisions. Even Ros had reluctantly admitted that he was good.

So when he had not understood what Lucas was doing, that hurt. He’d have believed him to understand. Instead it was the naïve king who had stood up for him, who had realised what was happening. It was the world turned upside down. Arthur had become a friend of sorts, but Merlin had become someone he kept at arm’s length. They were allies now, but that was all there was to it. Lucas did not even trust him to have his back. That was something Ros and Arthur would see to.

Merlin stared into the fire. ‘I need to apologise,’ he said eventually, after a lengthy silence that dragged on so long that Lucas had not even expected him to say anything anymore.

Now his head swivelled in the younger man’s direction. ‘Why?’ he asked brusquely.

Merlin seemed to sense that this was not Lucas asking to explain why he needed to apologise – because that was all too obvious to both of them – but rather him asking why now, and why he had suddenly come to realise that an apology was in order. It did not make sense to the spook. Merlin had tried to keep this off ever since he had realised he had been in the wrong about Lucas. Why did he say this now?

‘Because I made a mistake,’ the warlock said. ‘I was wrong about you.’

Not entirely though, although that was something Lucas would keep to himself. It was not something he shared with anyone. Ros suspected it and Harry must too. He had been close, dangerously close to taking Morgana’s side in this, especially after his own colleagues seemed to have lost faith in him. It would have been so easy to just leave, break free of protocol and the seemingly endless distrust he experienced on his own side. He would only be doing what everyone already suspected.

It did not help that Morgana had a point. She had been wronged, enormously so. It was hard not to see her as a victim. Horrible things had happened to her just because of how she was born. Her life had not been easy and Lucas could relate to her, more than was good for his mental health. On top of that Morgana was intelligent and, when she put her mind to it, likeable. He had been in danger of being too sympathetic towards her, but no one ever needed to know that.

The danger was over now anyway. There was no way sympathy could have lingered after the living hell she had put him through. But he could play it like there was something of that sympathy left. He would not be the first to lose his mind after torture. Stockholm Syndrome was in existence for a reason after all. And every spook needed to be an actor as well as a spy. He could pull it off.

‘Why now?’ Lucas asked. He didn’t meet the warlock’s eyes. He didn’t think he could. Actually he wanted Merlin to leave. His apology meant nothing. Yes, he had been wrong and it was good that he had admitted that, but it did not change anything. What done was done.

‘Because we’re going into a dangerous situation.’ Merlin’s jaw was set, one of those signs that he would not back off now. ‘And we’re allies. You…’ Here he hesitated. ‘If this goes well, Morgana will be ended. You are taking the risk while you are not even from here.’ He seemed to struggle to find the right words. ‘I don’t even know why you’re doing it, but I don’t think it’s for the good of this kingdom.’

Was this another lecture? Was this him getting a reprimand from the very man who was part of the reason why they were in this situation in the first place? The very notion made his temper flare. ‘My reasons are none of your concern.’ The words were snappy, dismissive, but he could not care. ‘And I hardly think you are the person to talk. It is your fault that the witch is who she is today.’ It was harsh and unfeeling, but it was also the truth. Had Merlin been thinking more about his actions, he could have kept Morgana on the straight and narrow. But he hadn’t, led by the same blind instinct to protect Arthur first and think about everything else later that had almost cost Lucas his life. He was done with it. And he was not even sure that this apology was genuine. For all he knew this was just Merlin’s way to try and get back into Arthur’s good books.

He had expected Merlin to get up and walk away. He had expected a contradiction or another accusation about his apparent lack of morals. He had not expected for the warlock to actually look up and nod. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘And you are getting into danger for a mistake that I have made in the past. I know you’re not doing it for this kingdom and it’s all about revenge for you, but you’re doing it anyway.’

‘Your point?’ he inquired. Sometimes, when he was nervous, Merlin did tend to start rambling. His words had taken Lucas by surprise, but it did not mean that he was suddenly about to forgive him. The memory of the Nathair was still too fresh in his mind for that. Forgiveness was something that would come with time, if it ever came at all. Maybe he was like Ros in that respect. She didn’t do forgiveness. Lucas wasn’t sure whether he did.

Merlin did seem annoyed with the tone of voice and he visibly had trouble biting back a reply that would annoy Lucas only further. ‘You’re doing what I cannot do.’ The words sounded strained, as if coming from between clenched teeth. The warlock had difficulty admitting this, Lucas could tell. ‘I could never kill Morgana and I don’t think Arthur could either. We both remember how she was before she became what she is now and it is just too hard to kill her when we know how nice she was before. I wanted to end her, I really did, in the barn. I just couldn’t.’

‘You froze.’ It was an ice-cold conclusion. It was also one of the worst sins a spy could commit in the field. Lives depended on what they did, so if they froze, those lives would be at risk. Merlin might be relatively good at spying, but the spies’ values were utterly alien to him. ‘You were compromised. You were emotionally involved in the operation.’ Sins in this line of work, fatal ones should they occur during an operation. ‘And that’s why you need us: to clear up the mess you made.’ It was hardly subtle, it certainly was political incorrect to say and it was downright blunt. But it was the truth, a very ugly one too. The most powerful warlock of all times had made a mess of everything and now he needed his new allies to deal with it, even if they had to put themselves at risk to do it.

Merlin nodded miserably. ‘I don’t think I could kill anyone, not in cold blood. In an accident or an emergency maybe, but not just like that.’

‘The barn was not an emergency?’ He could not help but be sarcastic, cynic even, about this. Merlin had the perfect opportunity there and yet all it took was for Morgana to bat her eyelashes and he had changed in a useless idiot. Lucas had seen it happening, had seen in Merlin’s eyes that he was not going to stop her. It was almost as if he resigned himself to it. It had been on his face for all to see, the defeat written all over it. Merlin had been about to admit defeat and let Morgana get away with an act of terrorism and mass murder because he could not bring himself to do what was necessary. Lucas could have no respect for someone like that. It was even harder because he had been the one to pay the price for Merlin’s cowardice.

Merlin looked at his boots. ‘I am sorry,’ he said. ‘I really am. I know I should have acted. I… I just can’t take a life like that.’

And this was coming from the mouth of Arthur’s protector, the man who had been about to let him die in order to save his precious king? ‘Then accept the fact that someday somewhere someone will kill your king,’ he told him bluntly. ‘There won’t always be someone to take his place.’ Because that was basically what he had done. He needn’t be taken. Morgana had gone for Arthur, not Lucas. But he had made a promise to look after the king and Arthur relied on him. It had not been much of a choice. But the thing was that such a choice should never have been made to begin with. If Merlin had done what he should have done, than he need not have suffered as much as he had. And he did not think he could ever forget that. ‘Because that is what happens when you choose to stay on that precious moral high ground of yours.’ The words became snappish again.

Merlin shook his head, but Lucas sensed it was not because he dismissed what Lucas had said. ‘How can you do it?’ he asked. ‘How can you just take a life like that?’ It sounded like an honest question.

Lucas however was still not in the mood for polite conversation. ‘Because other lives, _innocent_ lives, depend on it. And Morgana is not an innocent, no matter what you’ve deluded yourself into thinking.’ He got up. He was not in the mood for any conversation now, polite or otherwise.

‘I know.’ Merlin only spoke when he had already turned his back, voice laced with sadness and regret. ‘I just came to tell you that I will have your back this time. I promise.’ Again, it sounded like he meant what he said. Merlin might even be genuinely sorry for what had happened to Lucas. It just did not change the past.

‘I’ll believe it when I see it,’ he said. It may be hurtful, but he could not come back on his thought that he did not trust Merlin to cover for him, not even if he should want to, not when Morgana was involved.

 

***

 

The night was silent. Most of their small company had gone to sleep, save for sir Leon, who stood watch on the other end of the camp, and Ros’s own small bunch of conspirators and one of them did not even know he was a conspirator yet. It would not last long, though, because Merlin was quite determined to bring his sodding king into the plan.

And that was a notion Ros very much objected against. The king was a good man with a strong sense of right and wrong – even if that could easily been seen as a drawback in her line of work – but he could not keep a secret to save his life, never mind the lives of others. He was a complete and utter failure as a spook and his tendency to shout his real identity at the top of his lungs was only the least of his faults. Ros did not want him anywhere near her operation if she could help it.

She wasn’t sure she wanted Merlin anywhere near it either, but for entirely different reasons of course. She could just not be sure if she trusted him on this. His attitude towards Lucas was alarming. At first there had been the clear and obvious hatred when he thought her colleague was on Morgana’s side and now there seemed to be a lot of guilt involved. It was as if he was determined to prove that he could do the right thing. Either way, he was too emotionally involved in this.

The thing was that he was ridiculously good at the job for someone who was not even a professional, who had been self-taught by the necessity to keep his king alive and safe from whatever it was that the medieval terrorists set on him. And she needed his knowledge about the Isle of the Blessed as well. And, if she was being completely honest, she needed his powers as well. Without those they would not get anywhere, not against an enemy with strong magical powers herself. This however did not mean that she had to like the current arrangement.

Arthur was another matter entirely. He did not have any skills to add to the mission. The only reason Merlin insisted he was brought in was because he had been on Lucas’s side before, because he was the only one, apart from Ros, who had kept faith in Lucas no matter what had happened, and would hate to be excluded now.

 _You’re getting sentimental, Myers_ , she told herself. And sentiment did not have a place anywhere near this job. All of them, she as well as the others, were already more or less emotionally compromised now. The last thing they could use was to complicate things further by bringing in Arthur Pendragon. Merlin and the Section Chief at least could shut off their personal feelings about the matter if it was required by the situation. Arthur however was incapable of doing so and they could do without a king who rushed out into the danger the moment he suspected Lucas’s life was at risk, consequences and the operation be damned.

But Ros firmly pressed the mental mute button on her common sense and everything she had ever learned in training. This was different, this era was different. People didn’t do things the way they did them at home. And who was she fooling anyway? She was too involved in this emotionally anyway. Lucas was her colleague and therefore not only okay, but also her responsibility and he was about to meet the most dangerous witch known to mankind, who had already tortured him within an inch of his life. He may even suffer from Stockholm Syndrome, even if she could not detect any signs of it on him. But that meant nothing. He was a spook; hiding things was second nature to their lot. So she did worry.

They did need all the help they could get if they were to see this through and going behind Arthur’s back would doubtlessly make him nothing short of furious, Ros knew. She had become familiar with his rather fiery temper in the short time she had known him. He would want to be involved and in Camelot he was not an officer she could command. Here he was a king and he always got his way. That was one of the advantages of being king in this day and age; no parliament or boring politicians to bother oneself with, just order it as you wish and it is done.

And if Arthur wanted to be part of this little scheme, then she doubted she could keep him from doing so. Well, now she did have a good reason to justify her actions, because she wasn’t quite ready to admit that she herself was being influenced by reasons that were not related to the operation at all. It was unprofessional, not done.

Speaking of the devil, she thought as the sound of an elephant storming through the woods called her attention to the arrival of king and warlock. Merlin of course was the source of the noise, tripping over what seemed to be his own feet in his haste to get to the agreed meeting spot just out of earshot of the camp and its – in some cases – snoring occupants. Arthur followed suit, just a little quieter, every inch the hunter who liked to sneak up on animals for his own fun. It was with more dignity than his noisy manservant at the very least.

He was rather displeased. It was obvious from the frown in his forehead. ‘What am I doing here?’ he demanded. ‘We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow and I am not in the mood to listen to one of Merlin’s favourite bedtime stories.’ He had been on edge ever since he had realised Agravaine was not the trusted advisor he had taken him for. He took it out on his companions and Ros was _this_ close to losing her temper and telling him to grow up instead of sulking like your average four year old who had their favourite toy taken away from them.

‘Lucas,’ she replied instead, reminding herself that bickering amongst themselves would only be of use to Morgana and not to the colleague whose name she had just mentioned. She did however fold her arms over her chest, the very image of disapproval. It had been known to make suspects and colleagues back off faster than one could say Camelot.

It was wasted on Arthur Pendragon though. Apparently her opinion meant nothing in comparison to the subject she had just broached. ‘I don’t like it,’ he said immediately.

‘Surprise, surprise,’ Ros muttered. The king had hardly made it a secret that he disliked the fact that Lucas was going to that bloody Isle all on his own without any proper back-up. He had even gotten into a shouting match with Harry over it the previous night. Ros had been working late and the door to Harry’s office had done nothing to muffle the sounds of Arthur’s displeasure and, as time progressed, Harry’s as well.

‘We don’t like it either,’ Merlin told Arthur quickly, probably trying to drown out Ros’s sarcastic remark. ‘So we’re here… ehm, to plan…’

That was all Arthur needed to hear and since he was already doing such a splendid job of working himself up over this, he interpreted this the wrong way, although Merlin’s stuttering was not helping either. ‘You’re trying to stop it!’ he exploded. If Ros was the very image of disapproval, then Arthur was the very image of righteous indignity. ‘Have you learned nothing from the first operation, _Mer_ lin? You know he can be relied upon. I really though you knew better!’ To the Section Chief’s surprise, he then rounded on her. ‘You know he can do this, especially you, Ros. What are you even thinking you are doing?’

Someone changed his tune, Ros observed. Or maybe he didn’t. Arthur was just rushing to the aid of a friend. He may disapprove of their course of action, but by now it must be clear to him that the operation would go through anyway. And he felt like the two of them were undermining the friend he had supported all along. Of course he would come to the rescue, personal opinion on the matter notwithstanding. It was the kind of person that he was.

‘Can you just shut up and listen for once in your life?’ Merlin too was irritable, not surprising if one took into account that he had been talking with Lucas earlier that evening. Ros had not heard the actual conversation, but she could read faces. Theirs had not been hard to read. ‘We’re _not_ trying to stop Lucas.’

Arthur was fully prepared to rant on again, but those words fortunately hit home before he could wake the whole sodding forest with his indignant shouting. ‘Then what am I doing here?’ The tone was gruff and not very forgiving, but it was a start.

‘We’re trying to help him,’ Merlin explained. Ros leaned against a tree and decided to let him do the talking. Things may be tense between them at the moment, but Merlin did have years of experience in handling Arthur. ‘We won’t stop him from going to the Isle of the Blessed alone, but we thought we might be able to find a way to go there ourselves and help him once he’s there, to make sure he’s got a better chance.’ Merlin seemed to stumble over his own words in his haste to get them out and to pacify his still very explosive looking king. ‘We are going to do that anyway, but we thought…’ He hesitated as he saw Ros’s face and then corrected himself. ‘I thought that you would want to be part of it, since you’re good friends with Lucas.’

That seemed to do the trick. The anger left Arthur’s face and thank goodness for that. Ros wasn’t sure if she could have kept quiet if the king of Camelot had embarked on his crusade to protect his friend’s reputation. He meant well, only a fool would doubt it, but he was far too loud-mouthed and too impulsive to be of any real help, no matter what Merlin thought.

‘You mean to help him.’ It was a conclusion, but the words were laced with relief. ‘You’re not going to let him go alone.’

Ros was tempted to roll her eyes. That Arthur could even believe that she was capable of sending her officer into danger alone was beyond her, but then, he was not particularly blessed with common sense. It only favoured him with its presence every once in a while, something she deeply regretted. He would be a better king if he used that brain of his more often. She knew it was there, it was just not used very much.

‘Of course,’ Merlin said. ‘There’s just a few things you might need to know.’

 _Like the fact that he can command bloody dragons and wyverns_ , Ros thought sarcastically, wondering how Arthur would take that news. So far he had demonstrated an attitude of not really wanting to know. To a certain extent she could understand that, even if it sounded a lot like escapism to her. At any rate the king of Camelot did not like the whole magic business very much. Given the fact that Morgana had a tendency to magically fling people across the room or blow them to smithereens, she could not fault him for that. In her opinion magic should be approached the way one would approach a starved lion: with the utmost care and a loaded gun in hand. And you should never turn your back on either the lion or the sorcerer for fear of what might happen if you did that. She trusted Merlin to not blast her to kingdom come as long as she was no danger to his precious king, but there would always be some wariness.

‘What kind of things?’ Arthur seemed to sense that there was something Merlin should have told him, but hadn’t done. He frowned. ‘Merlin, what are you not telling me?’

Merlin didn’t meet Arthur’s eyes. ‘There is a way to get onto the Isle without having to use the boat,’ he told the king. ‘I have an old friend who might be able to help out. It’s just…’

‘This friend of yours has _magic_ ,’ Arthur concluded. He now seemed to copy Ros’s most disapproving attitude and spoke the word magic as if it was the most disgusting thing he had ever come across.

Merlin nodded hesitantly. ‘Something like that,’ he admitted.

‘Merlin, you know the law on magic.’ Suddenly it was the king talking and not the man she had come to know in London. ‘I’m already breaking it myself by allowing you to do as you want because you’re my fr… manservant.’ He corrected himself only just in time, but neither Ros nor Merlin had missed out on his slip up. ‘I can’t allow every sorcerer in the land to use it! I’m not even sure yet what to do with the whole issue and now you’re asking me to turn to magic for help? Who are you talking about anyway? One of your sorcerer friends?’

‘In a way,’ Merlin said.

Ros snorted. She grew tired of this whole beating around the bloody bush thing. Merlin’s delay was not only getting on her nerves, but it was also obstructing the progress of the operation. If these two wanted to have a nice little discussion about magic, they could do so when they were alone. ‘His pet dragon,’ she cut in. ‘He’s a Dragonlord, whatever the hell that is supposed to be, so he can command dragons. That means he can just summon his reptile and have him fly us to the Isle.’

Arthur was flabbergasted. That was possibly the right word to use for his current state. He was just staring at his manservant. ‘But Balinor was the last Dragonlord.’

Ros had no idea who on earth Balinor was, or had been, given the use of the past tense, but she was quite sure that this was not the time for any big reveals. At least they could do so without her. She was here to… She suddenly realised that she had no idea what she was doing here. ‘Right, you’re up to date now,’ she told the king. ‘Take it or leave it. This is the plan and you can either go with us or keep wringing your hands in fear about magic. It’s up to you.’ If she had been a politer person, she might have wished him goodnight, but Ros Myers was not a very polite person. She just turned on her heels and walked away, leaving warlock and king to sort out their problems by themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: arrival at the Isle! In the meantime I still love to hear what you think. Comments would be very welcome.


	46. Chapter 46

The atmosphere during the rest of the journey could be described in one word: tense. There was the anticipation of the eventual showdown that would occur when they finally caught Morgana and that was putting everyone on edge. It was not very surprising really. It was something big they were about to do. No, it was something big that Lucas was going to do, because he would be the only one to step foot on the Isle of the Blessed. Morgana would run if she saw there was anyone with him. This was something he had to do on his own, without help.

And it frightened him, because when it really came down to it, he did not know how he would approach the witch, what he would say, if she would even give him the chance to say anything at all before she blew him into hundreds of little pieces.

Come to think of it, he did not even know for certain that she would be there. All they had was Morgana’s words to Agravaine that she would retreat to that place, but there was no telling if she had truly gone there. Magical spying on the Isle was impossible because of ancient spells or something like that. Merlin had provided some explanation, but he was about magic as Malcolm was about technology: elaborate, using a lot of long and difficult words, making everyone wonder what on earth it was he had just been saying. It could have been anything.

But whether Morgana was there or not, they had to take the risk that she was. They’d have a wasted journey if she was not there, but otherwise they would be closer to her than they had been since the barn debacle. And that was worth this journey on horseback, even if he was quite convinced every muscle in his body was aching by now. Give him a decent car any day. By the look of things this opinion was shared by all of his colleagues.

But the impending operation was not the only reason things were uneasy. Sometime during the last few days Arthur and Merlin had fallen out again. Lucas had no idea what had happened this time, but all of a sudden Arthur spent a lot of his time with his knights, Ros, Lucas, even Jo, who he had never particularly liked – probably because she was closer with Merlin – in short, everyone except Merlin.

And Merlin hated it by the looks of things, but he wasn’t trying to get back in Arthur’s good books the way he had been doing before. It was almost like he was giving the king the time to dig through whatever had been happening this time. Lucas shook his head. Sometimes those two really behaved like a bickering married couple. But normally they were good friends, he had heard, so things would probably work themselves out eventually.

Lucas could not particularly care for their troubles, not when he had so many of his own to concern himself with. Arthur had become a friend, but if he wanted Lucas to know about what was going on, it would be safe to say that he would tell him. Arthur was like Ros in that regard; he did not like to share his problems with anyone else. It reminded Lucas of himself as well.

But now was hardly the time to think about things like that. It had taken them a little more than three days and now they were as close as they could be to the Isle without crossing the water. It was just after midday, but it seemed later. The clouds were hanging low and although it wasn’t raining, it looked like it could start to do so any second. The Isle itself, that they could see from a distance, looked dreary and forbidding. The buildings that had stood on it once upon a time had crumbled into ruins, making it impossible for any onlooker to determine what they had been when they had been. The place breathed emptiness.

‘That’s it,’ Arthur said.

‘Charming.’ Lucas didn’t even need to turn to know who had made that sarcastic comment. It had Ros written all over it. And that summed this Isle up to perfection.

It made Lucas remember why he was even offering to go there of his own volition. This was Morgana’s place. He could feel it in his bones. She sought out places like this one, the abandoned ones, the dark ones. And this Isle was magical. He would only have his wits and his gun to keep him safe. But this was not the time to back out. He had come too far for that now.

‘Where is that boat?’ he asked of Merlin. He may not like the servant much, but he would be a fool not to make use of the knowledge he possessed.

‘A little more to the right,’ Merlin replied.

‘Then let’s go.’ Tarrying would not do him any favours. Besides, now they still had a few hours of daylight left and hopefully that would be sufficient to conclude this operation for once and for all. Besides, he did not like the prospect of having to meet Morgana in the dark. If he did this, he would do it in the broad light of day, even if daylight was not as bright here as he would have liked. He wondered if the sun ever shone on this place. It was difficult to imagine.

‘Will you take some help with you?’ Gwaine asked as they made their way to the ferry. The knight seemed ill at ease here, even remotely worried. Lucas remembered Arthur saying that he and some of his men had been here before. Gwaine might have been a part of that group. And he did not seem like the type to be easily bothered by anything, but now he was. Lucas did not believe this to be a good sign, but he forced his unease to the back of his mind.

‘I will go alone,’ he announced, surprised that Gwaine had not realised this yet. Maybe he had not been listening the first time, which would not surprise him in the slightest. ‘Morgana will run otherwise.’

Gwaine looked at him as if he had lost his mind. ‘Mate, you can’t be serious.’

Lucas meant to tell him that he was, but Arthur beat him to it. ‘That’s enough, Gwaine,’ he said sternly. The tone of voice implied that he was not in the mood to discuss his orders and Gwaine clearly knew that.

Lucas was surprised at the king, though. He had not made it a secret that he disagreed with their chosen course of action, but he defended it whenever it was attacked, even if only with words. Arthur usually was straightforward and easy to read, but lately the king had been having taciturn moods and he was not nearly as talkative – or as prone to shout – as he had been only a week ago. The recent events must have changed the legendary king, but they had made him more like the king of legend than he had been before. He snorted. Arthur’s visit to London might yet prove to shape him into the king that was so commonly known in the world he had visited. It was a strange notion indeed.

The boat turned out to be manned by an elderly man with a hood drawn over his face, making it difficult to really see him, assess him. He sat very still, didn’t even seem to take notice of them, even though he wasn’t sleeping. Would he just sit here all day to wait for passengers that must hardly ever come this way? Lucas wondered about it, but only briefly. He had other and better things to concern himself with.

‘Wait here until I come back,’ he told Arthur. ‘Stay out of sight. If Morgana sees you, she’ll disappear again.’

The king nodded, reluctantly. ‘Are you sure you can bring her back?’

 _No_. ‘Yes,’ he said with more certainty than he felt. ‘She won’t be able to refuse, Arthur. She needs the help too much.’ If he kept telling himself that, he might will it to be true.

Arthur nodded. ‘You’ll need to take a weapon,’ he observed.

Lucas was about to point out that he had a gun, when he realised Arthur was offering him his own sword. It was a gesture of kindness, of friendship, but there was concern in there as well and Lucas knew how to recognise it. If Arthur had not worried, he would not have offered him the sword. Normally he hated the worry. He had the porcelain doll treatment from Harry more than enough, but now that stupid sentimental part of him was touched. Arthur truly did care.

And so he took the offered sword. ‘Thank you.’ He meant it, not for the use the weapon would be – he had never fought with an actual sword – but because of the intention with which it had been given.

‘There might still be wyverns on the island,’ Arthur told him. ‘Your gun won’t be much use against them.’ Now he made the offer practical, and therefore acceptable, as well. The king had spent too much time hanging around Ros lately. He was copying her ways.

‘I’ll be fine,’ he said. The tone was meant to convince both him and his colleagues. ‘Do I need to pay that ferryman?’ The answer to that would probably be yes. He thought Merlin had said something along those lines, but he wasn’t sure anymore.

Arthur handed him a coin. ‘This should do it.’

Lucas nodded. ‘Thanks. Remember, stay out of sight as best as you can.’ It wouldn’t do to get sentimental now. Ros would scold him mercilessly for it and besides, that would make it look too much like a farewell, and this was not like that. He would come back in a few hours. That was what he had to believe if he was going to pull this off. He could not allow anyone, especially not himself, to undermine his confidence.

He was already on his way to the boat when Ros called after him. ‘Lucas!’

He turned around. ‘Yes?’

‘No heroics, do you hear?’ The tone was stern, but the concern was obvious to anyone with a brain. ‘If things seem to go badly, pull out.’

Lucas favoured her with a lopsided grin as he gave her as taste of her own medicine. ‘Yeah.’

The dismissive snort told him everything he needed to know about what she thought about this answer, but she could hardly fault him for it, since it was what she tended to do as well. And she knew it. So she sent a wry smile at him and then allowed him to go.

The ferryman only looked up when he was less than a meter away from him. ‘Where to?’ he asked.

If he wanted to back out, this was the last chance he was ever going to get, but he would not, not now he had come so far already. ‘The Isle of the Blessed,’ he replied, giving the man the coin, all the while wondering if that was not the man’s only destination. There did not seem to be any other places the boat could take someone to from this place.

Lucas soon wondered why there was even a ferryman in the boat. As soon as he had taken his place in it, it started moving of its own volition. The ferryman just sat there and did nothing. He did not even steer the boat. It was almost as if he was some piece of décor. In a way it was rather unnerving.

His heart was beating too fast now that the confrontation with Morgana was drawing nearer. He knew how he would approach her, what angle he would use to get her to come with him, but it was not going to be easy and there were very many things that could go wrong. He would need to rely on his own acting skills and his ability to improvise. Lucas knew he could do that. He had needed to do so in Russia in order to stay alive. But this was not Russia and at least those FSB thugs had been more or less predictable. Morgana, he had come to learn, was anything but.

He forced it to the back of his mind. He could do this. He had done it before and it had worked out then. When he had gone in the first time, when she was still working with Bob Hogan, he had not had a real plan either, just a goal. This was no different.

By the time the ferryman had manoeuvred the boat – or the boat had manoeuvred itself – to dock next to a small gate that led onto the Isle itself he had his breathing and heart rate under control again. His gun was tucked away in the waistband of his trousers and as long as his coat was hanging over it, no one would see it. He kept the sword in hand. If Arthur was right and there were wyverns on this island, then it would be more use than his gun.

‘Can you wait here?’ he asked the ferryman before he left the boat. ‘I may need to go back within the hour.’ It would not take longer, he knew. In an hour he had either succeeded or he would be dead.

He got a curt nod of the head in response.

‘Thank you.’ Lucas left him then, not sure if anything else should be said. If he was quite honest, the man’s silence was unnerving, made him wonder if he was even entirely human, or entirely alive. That was a strange thought, and one he did not have the time for now. His focus ought to be on Morgana, on persuading her to come with him, to leave the Isle of the Blessed.

But it would soon turn out that things were not as easy as that. He chose a route that he believed would lead him to the centre of the Isle. So far it had been silent. The only sound he heard came from the wind and even that only served to emphasise the lack of other noises.

That changed the moment he set foot in a large stone courtyard. Lucas only glimpsed the ruined buildings that surrounded it and something that looked like an altar in the middle of it, before his attention was called by loud shrieks. He turned around and looked up, only to see two creatures with wings diving down, obviously with every intent to finish him off and have him for supper.

Any other might have frozen, but Lucas had been in tighter spots in his life. He had almost forgotten that he even held Arthur’s sword, but his sense of self-preservation had not. His arm shot up almost of its own volition, grazing the creature’s chest. The angry cries changed to ones of pain and it flew away, even if its companion did not. The spook had to duck to evade that one.

Wyverns, Arthur had called them. Lucas had not known exactly what they were, but that they were dangerous and oddly determined to rip out his throat, that was simply a fact. And he did not think they would give up so soon. Well, at least this would do the trick of alerting Morgana that she had a visitor.

There was a small niche nearby and he did not think those monsters could squeeze themselves in there, but he could. It meant that he had a wall to protect his back and a roof overhead and he could poke Arthur’s sword at the wyverns before they got a chance to get to him. The solution was not ideal, but it worked. The only downside was that he could not leave this niche, but that was a matter he could think about later. For now he was at least alive and that was worth a great deal.

In hindsight Lucas would never be able to say how long he had been there. It could be minutes, but it felt like hours. The wyverns had positioned themselves in front of his exit, eyeing him as if he indeed was their next meal. Lucas in turn stabbed at them whenever they came too close. It was an impasse.

It was ended by a woman’s voice, Morgana’s voice. She shouted something in that magical language of hers and the wyverns disappeared. Had Lucas blinked, he might have missed out on their departure. As it was, he saw them jump up and fly away.

He took a deep breath and left the niche. Delaying would not do him any good. He might as well get it over with. The trick was not to think about it.

And so he stepped out of the shadows. Morgana was standing next to the altar, looking exactly as she had the last time he had seen her. And she had not been expecting him, that he could tell. Her eyes widened at the sight at him. ‘Lucas…’ For just this once she was not as composed as she usually was.

Lucas could not fight back the smirk. ‘Hello, Morgana.’

 

***

 

Arthur was unsure if he should do let Merlin do this. He was unsure about a lot of things lately, he supposed. Merlin’s newly revealed powers were just too much to deal with. The magic had been enough of a shock already, but then his servant had also cheerfully informed him that he was also a Dragonlord and had a dragon that was more or less his to command.

Arthur had walked away then. It was too much. And the fact that Merlin was a Dragonlord as well as an extremely powerful warlock, that opened up a few possibilities the king of Camelot in all honesty did not want to consider. Because the mystery of why the dragon that had been held captive in the caves under Camelot had escaped in the first place had never been cleared up. Arthur was certain that he may be closer to finding the answer than he had ever been. He was equally certain that he did not truly want to know what had happened.

His friendship with Merlin was already on very shaky grounds and another revelation might just destroy it for good. And he had come to the conclusion that was not what he wanted. He did not want to lose Merlin’s friendship, because it meant too much to him. And Merlin had been there for him, looking out for him ever since they had met. That was what he suspected at the very least.

And so he had reacted to the matter in true Arthurian fashion: he had ignored it, pretended it did not exist. A childish reaction it might be, but it was the only one that enabled Arthur to keep his head. Fighting would do them no good, now least of all. It would only help Morgana and Arthur had strong objections to that. And so he had stayed away from Merlin in order to ignore the matter at hand. 

There was no ignoring it now, not now they needed to call aforementioned dragon to help them. Arthur was sceptical about the plan, and so was Ros, but there was one thing they agreed on: the three of them needed to be on that Isle and the boat was unavailable. They needed to find a way onto the island themselves and they needed a way to get there fast, before Morgana got the chance to kill Lucas, as she doubtlessly wanted. This did not mean that Arthur did not have faith in Lucas. It meant that he did not believe Morgana would stop and listen to him before she sent a lethal spell his way. She was one of the most impulsive people Arthur had ever met.

And unfortunately there was only one way he could think of that would get them where they needed to be fast enough and that was Merlin’s pet dragon. And so he gave a curt nod when Merlin looked at him hesitantly, as if asking for permission. In a strange way it gave Arthur hope for the two of them. Merlin, despite all the evidence to the contrary, still cared about Arthur’s opinion on certain matters. Not all was lost yet. But they needed to talk once all this was over. There had been far too many lies clouding their friendship and they needed to be removed, sooner rather than later.

Merlin gave him a tentative smile in reply before he faced the skies and took a deep breath. What happened then was unexpected: Merlin roared. Arthur was not even sure what he had been expecting, but it was not this. He had been aware that a simple ‘Come here, dragon’ was probably not going to do the trick, but he had not known what would be required if it wasn’t that. This, this was a roar as if of a wild animal. It was wild and dangerous and yet there were words to be heard. It wasn’t any language Arthur could understand, but it was a language all the same.

He had known his servant was a dangerous man when he wanted to be, even when he looked about as threatening as a new-born baby. This only confirmed that. The roar made Arthur’s skin crawl and, very unlike him, gave him the urge to run away as fast as his legs could carry him.

Leon had more or less the same reaction. He was looking around him as if searching for an escape route, ill at ease here. Jo was just a little less so. Arthur strongly suspected she stayed here because her faith in Merlin was almost absolute. Those two had become good friends over the past two weeks.

Ros however was sceptical. Her arms were folded over her chest, there was a frown on her forehead and a stern look in her eyes that Arthur knew never boded well for the person on the receiving end of it. The Section Chief was not enthusiastic about the idea of magic in general, would rather avoid it if given the choice. Arthur could understand that entirely. He too would rather never have bothered himself with it, but it would seem that he had no choice in the matter. That choice had been made for him when Merlin had first revealed his magic in such a spectacular way. There was no way he could ignore it now.

The roaring ended as suddenly as it had begun and then Merlin walked back to the small group that was waiting at the edge of the clearing. If this dragon really was coming, he would have to land on the small strip of land between the woods and the lake. There would not be a lot of room to manoeuvre. That was a good thing, Arthur supposed, just in case things didn’t go as well as Merlin was apparently convinced they were meant to go. His hand rested loosely on the hilt of his sword. Merlin had said that one command from his lips could prevent the dragon from attacking, but Arthur was rather safe than sorry. It was rather difficult to forget his last encounter with the monster after all.

They did not need to wait for long. Only a few minutes had passed when the sound of a strong wind reached their ears. And shortly after they started hearing it, the trees started moving with it. Arthur’s grip on his sword became stronger. It was almost impossible to fight off the memories of the last time he had heard a dragon approach. It was extremely hard for him to believe that the same dragon who had killed so many of his people was in truth a very benevolent creature who would like nothing better than to help Arthur.

The dragon came into sight and it was every bit as huge and threatening as Arthur remembered it. His grip on the sword tightened again. It was too late to call it off now, but Arthur passionately wished there still was. Surely Merlin could have thought about something else to get them to the Isle of the Blessed, something that did not involve travel by dragon?

Leon had his sword actually drawn, eyeing the monster with barely concealed distrust. The dragon met the gaze with what appeared to be amusement. Taken into account how much good their weapons had done last time, Arthur thought he could understand that look. It did not mean he had to like it.

‘Young warlock,’ the dragon acknowledged with a nod of the large head in Merlin’s direction. He merely ignored the rest of the company, did not seem to think that they were important at all. And to him, maybe they weren’t. Merlin was the only one with magic strong enough to command a full-grown dragon. ‘Why have you called me here?’

‘I have to get across the lake and I haven’t got a boat,’ Merlin said bluntly. ‘You can carry three, can you not?’

It seemed a bit of a stupid question to Arthur. The beast was enormous. He would not have a lot of trouble carrying three people. The real question was if he would be willing to do so and if the intended passengers were willing to risk it. The first question was not of much importance, Arthur supposed. Merlin could just ask nicely or command the dragon to do his bidding. The fact that he had summoned him here proved that to the king. What he was not sure about was if he was willing to climb on the dragon’s back and let him fly him to his destination.

The next second he gave himself a good mental scolding. Lucas’s life was at stake. He could not afford to sit back and think of another way. He may not like this, but this was as of now the only thing he could do. And Arthur Pendragon was many things, but he was not a coward. He would not abandon a friend in need, not when that friend had put his life on the line to save Arthur’s. He owed it to Lucas to overcome his aversion to magic and get on that dragon.

Arthur stepped forward, as did Ros, to make it clear that they were the ones who would be making that trip, however unwelcome. Ros’s hand was close to her gun, even if her face betrayed nothing at all. She was in full ice queen mode, but extremely alert at the same time. The dragon didn’t need to do much wrong for her to take that gun and pull the trigger. And she would do it without batting an eyelash.

The dragon did not even look at her. Instead its gaze settled on Arthur. ‘Ah, the young Pendragon. The age of Albion is truly dawning.’

Merlin looked uncomfortable for some reason, something that made Arthur a little suspicious. There was apparently a lot more that Merlin had failed to make mention of. Why was he not even surprised anymore? It was becoming a habit, it would seem. And therefore Arthur did not have the slightest inkling what this monster was talking about.

And it was a strange notion in and out of itself that such a beast could talk. When Arthur had last seen it, it had mainly roared, when it was not spewing fire, that was. To now hear it talk as if it was an intelligent creature, that somehow made it all the worse. It meant that this dragon had consciously decided to wreak such havoc on his kingdom and his people. He could only hope and pray that Merlin could keep this beast under control.

‘You.’ With one word he managed to convey perfectly what he thought about this beast. His hand was starting to ache because he was holding his sword so tight.

Something told him he should just kill this dragon and be done with it, but he had a feeling that would not solve anything. Killing this beast would rob them of a way to get to the Isle of the Blessed in time.

And if there was one thing he had learned from his new friends, then it was that the operation always had to come first, _before_ any personal concerns. It was a concept Arthur was already familiar with because as a king he had to put the kingdom’s concerns before his own, but the spooks had made it clearer to him. And if he was honest, he could just not let Lucas die just so that he could have his revenge on the dragon that had caused so much harm. Priorities, he supposed. But it did take effort to keep his sword sheathed, and quite a lot of it at that.

‘I do apologise for the harm I have caused.’ The dragon inclined its head in Arthur’s direction. ‘It was not you my wrath was directed against.’

 _Isn’t that just bloody brilliant?_ His mental voice seemed to have taken on Ros’s tone of voice and her words as well. ‘It were my people who suffered because of your wrath,’ Arthur snapped. These words didn’t make it right what had happened then. People had died. The dragon may blame Arthur’s father for its captivity, but Uther Pendragon had not been injured or killed in the attacks. He had been forced to watch his kingdom burn, but other people, _innocent_ people, had perished. ‘I won’t accept your apology. The people you killed had nothing to do with your captivity. That was my father’s making and his alone.’ A few weeks ago it would have felt like blasphemy to say such a thing, but he was coming to see more and more that his father had not been a saint, not a hero. He had made mistakes, like every other human being had ever done. And he had made enemies because of those, powerful enemies at times. And quite a few of them held Arthur responsible for Uther’s mistakes. Agravaine had been a prime example of that.

‘Therefore I do apologise, young Pendragon.’ The dragon sounded sincere, probably was, but Arthur had a hard time accepting anything that came out of that big mouth, since he could clearly remember it spewing death and destruction on his people. But Lucas was still in danger and he could not even afford the luxury of calling this beast to the carpet for all the havoc he had wreaked on Camelot. Allies they might have to be, but they would be very unwilling allies and only because there was more at stake here than just Arthur’s feud with it.

‘I won’t accept your apology,’ he repeated. ‘But we need your aid.’ Admitting that felt like a defeat to him and it did not do his already frayed nerves and bad mood any good. Had someone told him a week ago he would ask for help from a dragon, he would have declared them mad. But desperate times asked for desperate measures, it would seem.

‘So I realised,’ the dragon spoke. Its head turned towards Ros, who was watching the scene with a wary, but impatient look on her face. One hand was still very close to her gun. She did not trust the dragon any more than Arthur did and for some reason this made the king feel a little better. He was not overreacting.

‘Who is this?’ the dragon asked of Merlin after he had favoured Ros with a scrutinising glance, which the Section Chief endured without twitching a muscle. The ice queen was in full flow.

‘A friend,’ Merlin said dismissively. ‘Lady Rosalind of Britain.’

This time a muscle did twitch. In any other circumstance Arthur would have thought it amusing that Ros was more annoyed by the mention of her full name than she was by the presence of a full-grown dragon, but not today. Today it just felt like wasting time.

The dragon seemed confused. ‘She is not of this land,’ he said eventually. Arthur thought he detected a hint of disapproval.

Merlin did too. ‘That is of no importance.’ This time it was the servant that spoke in a dismissive tone of voice. ‘A friend of ours is in danger. We need to get to the Isle as quickly as possible. Can you take us?’

It was a strange experience to see a dragon look indignant, but Arthur saw it that day. ‘We’ve been over this before, Merlin,’ he said reproachfully. ‘I am not a horse.’

 _And no one in his senses would ever mistake you for one_. Arthur had seldom seen a creature so unlike a horse as this one. And honestly, he wasn’t exactly doing a happy dance around this clearing either. But sometimes needs must and they were wasting time here. Lucas would have arrived by now, he might have met Morgana already. It made him more than a little nervous.

Merlin looked equally reproachful as he returned the dragon’s stare. He was a lot more confident than Arthur had ever seen him and something about that was rather unnerving. ‘Do you want Morgana to win then?’ he inquired. ‘Because if that’s what you want you can just be off and wait for her to deal the final blow.’

That had been the right – or the wrong, depending on your perspective – thing to say. The dragon all but bristled with rage. ‘My allegiance has never been with the witch,’ he informed the warlock. He spoke the last word as if it was some kind of contagious disease.

‘I know,’ Merlin said calmly. ‘But is it with me?’

And to Arthur’s astonishment the dragon nodded. ‘Yes, young warlock, it is with you.’

Arthur had to blink a few times and pinch himself to ascertain that he was indeed awake. It seemed surreal in some way that a dangerous creature such as a dragon would give his allegiance willingly to one such as Merlin. Yes, he was a Dragonlord, but Arthur was no fool. These words had not been commanded from it, these were willingly given. Merlin was a mystery, he had to conclude.

And right now that mystery’s face split into a wide smile. ‘Then you will take us?’

And again the dragon nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy news: I finished writing chapter 50 of this story last night, which means that from now on it’ll be a matter of editing and publishing, because the story itself is complete (not on here of course, but on my computer). After this chapter there’ll only be four chapters left. I’ll just stick to the twice a week update scheme for that, because editing is going to take quite a bit of time.  
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and if you’ve got a moment, a comment would be very welcome.


	47. Chapter 47

Merlin had very little trouble establishing that neither Ros nor Arthur enjoyed climbing on the back of a dragon. Arthur was a little paler than he usually was and his hand kept creeping back towards his sword. Merlin pretended that he didn’t notice. After what had happened he did not expect Arthur to be happy to call Kilgharrah to his aid. It was only because Lucas’s life was at stake that he was willing to ask the help from one he considered a mortal enemy of Camelot. It stung a bit to know that he had every reason to think like that.

Ros had no history with the Great Dragon, but she too seemed none too pleased with the prospect of flying. But she at least knew how to handle herself. Her facial expression was neutral. She had been in ice queen mode since the start of this operation; focused, taciturn and utterly determined to deal with this. And Merlin strongly suspected that dealing with this in this case was just a euphemism for killing Morgana.

The warlock was not entirely sure how he felt about that, but he would admit that such a course of action might just be necessary. Morgana was a dangerous witch and Merlin did not doubt that if she was given as much as half a chance she would kill Lucas. That of course was the very reason they were going after him without his knowledge or consent, the only reason why king and Section Chief were prepared to put up with a dragon’s presence.

‘Can you try to stay out of sight?’ Merlin asked when Kilgharrah flew up. ‘Morgana will probably run when she sees you.’

The dragon made an indignant noise. Merlin had briefed him on the current situation while Arthur and Ros were still attempting to find a comfortable spot on the scales of Kilgharrah’s back. He had looked more and more disapproving with every passing second, something which Merlin had pretended not to see. Kilgharrah had his own reasons for doing what he did, but Merlin did not necessarily have to agree with those. He had been the one to tell Merlin that Morgana had to die and Merlin all too well remembered where that had led him. It was partly because of that advice that they were in the situation they currently were in. Merlin had not quite forgotten that.

‘I hope you know what you are doing, young warlock.’ By the sound of it Kilgharrah was still very displeased. ‘You took a great risk in meddling with time itself. There are few who have dared to attempt such a thing and even fewer still who attempted it successfully.’

 _But I am not just anybody. I am Emrys_. Seated on a dragon’s back, flying over the lake, he felt almost invincible. And it was an added bonus that he did not need to keep his magic a secret during the confrontation that was to come. Everyone involved already knew about his powers and that was both frightening and exciting. Merlin usually took great care to hide his powers, but now he would use them out in the open for everyone to see.

‘Morgana meddled with time,’ he replied. ‘I did not.’ He knew that was a lie before he had even finished that sentence. He _had_ meddled with time. He had done so from the moment he had made that first deal with the spies of Section D that they help him catch Agravaine in exchange for Merlin’s magical help on one of their own operations. Admittedly it had been Morgana who forced his hand eventually. She had been the one to create the portal in the first place, she had been the one to start the Al-Qaeda operation that had eventually led to Lucas going to meet Morgana on his own and the three of them going after her.

But Merlin knew what the Great Dragon meant, because he somehow seriously doubted that Morgana was destined to meet her end in such a fashion. Meddling with time was a dangerous thing, because it could alter the course of the entire future. And he was just ignoring that. Surely that was a dangerous thing to be doing, but Merlin could not help but think that in the end it would all be worth it. If Morgana could be stopped, then the future must be changed for the better.

‘You did as well, Merlin,’ Kilgharrah said. He was flying, so he could not look back at him, for which Merlin was grateful. Dragonlord or not, those huge eyes had the power to unnerve him and make him question his own judgement. He had made that mistake before and the consequences had been catastrophic. He would not do such a foolish thing again.

‘If we end Morgana now,’ he began. In spite of everything that had happened, despite everything that she had done, he still could not bring himself to refer to Morgana’s intended demise as killing. Killing sounded like it was a crime and this was going to be hard enough as it was without burdening the deed with such a term. ‘If we end Morgana now, then it will be worth it.’

He would still feel the regret over having to end her life, because a part of him knew he had to be the one to do it. He had been the person to have allowed her to become like this in the first place, so therefore it should be him that ended it, no matter how painful it would be. Because Merlin would regret it, would regret the very need for it.

‘This is something the prophecies have never foretold,’ the dragon remarked. The tone of voice was still laced with disapproval.

‘Did they say this cannot happen?’ Merlin countered. The future wasn’t set in stone. That was one thing he had learned from his time in London, if nothing else. And he even wondered if the prophecies about Morgana had not only come true because he had made them. He had been so scared that she would become an enemy of Camelot that he had deliberately kept her in the dark about her powers and his own. If he had been honest with her from the start, none of this would have happened. Merlin decided he was done letting himself be led by prophecy and destiny. ‘I am willing to take the risk.’

He was. Good grief, he really was. It felt like everything was coming together now. If they succeeded today, then Camelot would be free of the biggest threat it had seen in its history. Morgana may have opened the portal to the twenty-first century, but in doing so she may have signed her own death warrant.

‘You need to be careful, young warlock.’ Kilgharrah was his annoying self again.

‘When am I ever not?’ Merlin inquired sarcastically.

Careful he may be, but he was rash as well. This entire plan was completely reckless, but if they would succeed, it would be well worth it. Maybe Kilgharrah was right and the dawn of Albion was near at hand. But they would still need to make it past today and that for the moment did the job of dampening Merlin’s spirits. Morgana was dangerous and resourceful. To underestimate her would be the biggest mistake they could possibly make and Merlin was determined not to fall into that trap. And she might just hold Lucas hostage and that was something Merlin was rather afraid of. Morgana lacked anything even approaching a conscience lately and she would have no problems using Lucas as a shield.

He looked down, watching as the water passed under them. If they were to fall now, as Ros and Arthur visibly were still fearing, they would at least land softly, or as softly as was possible. The Isle however was coming closer and Merlin felt his stomach tying itself into tight knots.

‘Can you fly a little lower?’ he asked. ‘I don’t want Morgana to see us.’ He was fairly sure that his spell to cover them all from Morgana’s magical spying was still holding and the last thing he wanted now was for her to learn of their presence because of their own stupidity. If his plan had one flaw, then it would be that arriving on a dragon was not the least conspicuous way he could have come up with. But there was not really a list of other options, so he had to make do with the ones that were open to him and just hope that Morgana was too preoccupied to notice the rather large dragon arriving at the Isle.

Kilgharrah wasn’t happy to be treated like a glorified horse, but he complied with Merlin’s request all the same. If Morgana was where Merlin guessed she was, then the ruined walls would obscure them from view. He knew the witch, knew she had a love of theatrics, so his guess would be that she confronted Lucas in the main courtyard. He had been there himself a few times, none of which were pleasant memories, so he was more or less familiar with the layout of the island itself. And there were enough walls still standing to keep them out of Morgana’s sight.

‘We’re nearly there,’ he told his two allies, looking over his shoulder.

By the looks of things Arthur was very grateful for that fact. The king of Camelot looked positively seasick, even if that word seemed wholly inappropriate for someone who was airborne at the moment. Well, there was water, he was just not on it. Ros did not seem to have the time of her life either, but in her case it was probably just because she was worried about her colleague. After all, she had done nothing but worrying about him since the decision that Lucas would go undercover had first been made.

Kilgharrah kept descending, apparently heading for a strip of land before one of the ruins. If Merlin remembered correctly, that was still quite a way from the courtyard where he suspected Morgana to be, but there was very little choice. If they landed any closer, Morgana would realise their presence and she would flee and then they would be back to where they started, with no clues to go on this time.

The warlock could hear Arthur exhale in relief when the Great Dragon touched ground again and he could climb back down. Merlin himself rather enjoyed flying. It was a rare occurrence, since Kilgharrah was none too fond of being used as a horse. It felt like he was free from all the troubles that plagued him on the ground below. It allowed him to think more clearly and that was not an excessive luxury when one’s destiny was to keep Arthur Pendragon out of trouble, a man who by all accounts seemed to attract and embrace trouble itself if given as much as half a chance.

Ros too was quick to get back to the solid ground again. She gave the dragon a curt acknowledging nod, but it was obvious that she was not very fond of him. Merlin had looked over his shoulders a few times while they had been in the air and he could tell from that dismissive scowl that she did not approve of his sentimental chatter about destinies and prophecies. Ros Myers was just not the kind of woman to believe in such things. Merlin was not truly surprised.

‘Thank you,’ he told Kilgharrah. And he meant it. Without his help they would never have made it here and he was only too aware of that. ‘I will not forget this.’ And with any luck, Arthur would not forget it either. If he was very lucky indeed, Arthur might just change his lifelong opinion about magic after this operation. He did not know how likely that was, but he could always hope.

‘Can you bloody well hurry up already?’ Merlin did not even need to turn around to know who had spoken those words. Ros, he decided, was on edge, bordering on nervous. That was very unlike her, but in this case also understandable. She felt like they were wasting time and maybe they were. There was just one thing she failed to see and that was that one did not simply turn one’s back on such a powerful magical creature like Kilgharrah when aforementioned magical creature had just helped them. But Ros would call that sentimentality and point out that such things did not have a place in her line of work.

‘I am coming,’ Merlin said. ‘Thank you again.’ Just because he was a Dragonlord did not mean he could abuse that power and for all their sakes it was best to remain on Kilgharrah’s good side. They might need him again before all of this was over.

‘What you are about to do might change the future of Albion forever, young warlock,’ Kilgharrah warned.

Merlin inwardly moaned. He already knew this and he also wished that his ally, because that was what he was, would not choose now of all moments to be so annoyingly cryptic. And it wasn’t something he did not know already. But he meant his words too: if they succeeded here today, then changing destiny, throwing prophecy to the wind, it would all be worth the risk. And there was something incredibly exciting and liberating about being able to make his decisions for himself.

Kilgharrah took off, leaving Merlin alone with Ros and Arthur. Neither of them had spoken much during the encounter with the dragon and neither of them seemed particularly pleased with the need for said dragon. Come to think of it, both Ros and Arthur seemed to dislike magic in general. Given their experiences with it, Merlin found he could hardly blame them for thinking the way they did, but he would not deny that it hurt him. He was trying so hard to prove them wrong, but so far he had not been very successful.

‘Do you know where to go?’ Ros demanded. Her hand was grasping her gun as if it was the only thing keeping her alive and she might be right in that assumption. If Morgana showed up, their reflexes could mean the difference between life and death. He had seen for himself that Morgana could be hurt by bullets. Ros’s weapon of choice may not be entirely useless against her.

Merlin nodded. This place was a maze, but his sense of direction was distinctly better than Arthur’s and he had already been here twice before. And he could always use a little magic trick if he wasn’t entirely sure about where to go. Of course it was better not to mention that fact to Ros.

‘Follow me,’ he said. He felt confident now, even if it was still mixed up with nerves. But this was a place he knew and if he was clever, he could use the magic already present here to his advantage. This fight was not yet lost and Merlin was determined to come out as a victor this time.

 

***

 

‘Hello, Morgana,’ Lucas could hear himself say as he took in the sight of the witch standing next to the stone altar in the middle of the square. She looked exactly the same as the last time he had seen her: the same messy hair, the same old and dirty black dress and the same pale complexion. Morgana did not spend a lot of time in the sun, but that only justified a certain amount of paleness. This looked more like exhaustion to Lucas. The dark shadows under her eyes only confirmed that theory.

And she was still injured. The dress had been torn by the bullet and Lucas could see the bandages underneath. He would have imagined that such a wound would not take a sorceress such as Morgana much time to heal, but it would seem he had been mistaken. If she had the power to heal such an injury, she would have done so. The spook imagined that the wound must hurt, speaking from experience, and she had not been able to get any decent rest lately. Maybe that was because of the pain, but Lucas thought it more likely to be because of the failings of her plans.

And that would make sense, because her goal to take over Camelot meant everything to her. It was more than just her life’s ambition. It was her ultimate goal, the purpose of her very existence. She needed it, desperately needed it for reasons Lucas could not even begin to comprehend, and now it had been taken from her.

And this made her vulnerable, receptive to the things he was about to say to her. A part of him felt almost guilty that he would have to break this young woman. When it really came down to it, she was just a confused and misled girl who had far too much power for her own good. Delusional people should not wield such magic. They could not be trusted with it. But it did not make Lucas pity her any less.

Stockholm Syndrome, Harry would call it and that of course was the very reason he had not made any mention of this. He would never have been allowed to do this if he had given off the signs. And it would be an asset in persuading Morgana to see his side of the story, after which he would betray her again. That would be his revenge. And at the same time he would feel sorry for her, just like Merlin did too, even if the warlock was not the kind of person to admit to that, not even to himself probably.

For a moment Morgana’s calm composure lay in pieces on the ground. ‘What are you doing here?’ She tried to sound harsh and commanding, but she failed rather spectacularly. The confusion ruled her voice.

‘I think you know.’ Lucas’s answer could be interpreted in various ways, which was what he was counting on. The less lies he would have to tell, the more plausible his story became and the more likely Morgana was to buy it.

She was pulling herself back together, but she never regained that untouchable air she had about her before. The injury must be hurting her. One hand was lying on it, made to be look casual, but Lucas was not fooled. The other hand was resting on the altar for support. That meant that for the time being she would not be firing any spells at him. He had thrown her off balance enough to talk to her and try to convince her to see his point. This attitude could change in a matter of seconds though, so he was careful to remain vigilant. He had underestimated her before and that mistake had almost cost him his life. He was none too anxious to repeat the experience.

The witch shook her head. ‘No.’ The tone was decisive, far too decisive for Lucas’s liking. ‘You are a traitor.’

Lucas conjured up a sad smile, a little alarmed that he managed to do so without too much effort. ‘Why else would I be here?’ he asked of her. He figured that Morgana might suspect that he had been sent in – if only by himself – to try and turn her as he had been before, but that was such a hare-brained scheme that he did not believe that she would truly believe it. After all, who would be as foolish as to try and work the same plan twice on the same victim, especially when aforementioned plan had gone horribly wrong the first time around? It was foolish and reckless, one of the main reasons why Harry was so opposed to it, but it could just work because it was so foolish and reckless. And he was counting on that.

So far it seemed this scheme was working. Morgana was looking at him, eyes narrowed, clearly wondering what on earth he was playing at. Like before she could not work him out and that could be both an asset and a setback. If she had no idea what Lucas was doing, her suspicion might easily get the upper hand, but the hesitation could also make her stall, long enough for him to convince her. And it did help that she needed all the help she could get, even if it came from a traitor like him.

‘You cannot be trusted.’ It was a clear sign that she was very injured that she had yet to move. When he had met her before, Morgana had always been moving about, walking around him, almost never standing still. When she had been unmoving, that was because she was lounging in some chair or other. The trademark smirk also was absent. From time to time she even grimaced in pain. Yes, getting hit by a bullet and being unable to get the required medical attention would do that to a person.

Lucas snorted. ‘Now where have I heard that before?’ he asked sarcastically.

That sparked Morgana’s interest. A shadow of the well-known smirk found its way onto her face. ‘Your friends don’t trust you either.’ She nodded, half-smiling as if she just had a light bulb moment, even if those were not yet invented in this day and age. ‘They think you’re still working for me, even after…’ She trailed off.

 _Even after you nearly tortured me to death_. It took all his willpower not to clench his hands into fists at the memory. The flashbacks were lurking somewhere in the back of his mind as well and those wouldn’t do either. He could do weak and delusional, but he would not humiliate himself if it was not strictly required by the operation. He had some dignity left.

He smiled wryly. ‘You have no idea what that little world is like, have you?’ he asked. ‘You’re a risk as soon as the “enemy” gets their hands on you. Because an enemy will try to extract information from their prisoner, and sometimes, under great duress, the prisoner gives it to his interrogator.’ Lucas and Morgana both knew that he had done no such thing, but the witch was a clever woman, even though she was highly delusional. She would understand that this was what his colleagues thought, not what had happened for real.

And, so very like the stories he had spun her before, this was awfully close to the truth as well. It was not spoken about, but that was merely because the on-going operation took precedence over his debriefing. Lucas did not think Ros believed he had leaked classified information during his captivity, either willingly or under duress. The Section Chief was very like him in many ways and one of those things was that neither of them would give up their secrets. She understood. And Lucas had not been giving away intelligence in Russia, not even after eight long years, and he would not do so after only twenty-four hours of pure hell in Morgana’s hovel.

It did however not stop Harry from suspecting it, even if he did not suspect willingly. But he had been in this job for decades and expecting the worst had become second nature to him. It was a healthy trait in a spy, but Lucas could not deny that this distrust did hurt, more than he was willing to admit even to himself.

But close to the truth or not, he had Morgana’s undivided attention now and that was what he had been hoping for. It was like the first time he had gone to her; she was intrigued, unable to stop herself from being curious, allowing him to wriggle his way in. This was working. And so he strung her along. ‘But that’s not really the thing they fear most,’ he told the witch, keeping his eyes on her. ‘What they fear most is that a prisoner might be turned by their captor. You see, this prisoner is weak, isolated, despairing, so he will take any chance to escape, even if that means working for the person who kept him captive in the first place.’

Again, it was close to the truth, too close perhaps. It was how he had gotten out of Russia, by agreeing to spy for the FSB, or, more specifically, Arkady Kachimov. He knew that there were people who ended up really doing it. Lucas however had not been one of them. Maybe it was because he considered Section D the only home he had, maybe because he was stronger than most. He didn’t know and he did not particularly care.

‘But even if it doesn’t go like that, there’s always this thing called Stockholm Syndrome,’ he went on. Now he was the one walking, pacing. It would give Morgana the impression that he was distressed – which he was to a certain extent – and that was what he wanted to achieve. ‘I don’t think you have ever heard of it. It was only invented long after this time. It means that a captive develops strong emotional ties to his captor.’ _You’re somehow still in love with your captor, even though no longer captive_. ‘Some of them even end up defending this captor, even long after their captivity has ended.’ _And here I was thinking Morgana would make for such an excellent partner_. ‘It means that these former captives can no longer be trusted, because they have grown so close to the ones who locked them up in the first place, often tortured them. They are emotionally compromised, no longer capable of doing their job properly.’ _And they’d be wrong anyway_.

But they weren’t wrong, not entirely and that was something that frightened the spook. He knew he was in no danger of truly choosing Morgana’s side, but he did feel pity for her and that was dangerous. But he had felt that even before he had been taken prisoner by her. But he was emotionally compromised and he knew that Harry worried, maybe even rightly so. Ros too had not been enthusiastic about this operation, but she at least had given it her seal of approval. _Colleagues are okay indeed._

Morgana understood what he was trying to say. ‘Your friends think you still work for me, that you are attached to me.’

Lucas gave a curt nod in response. She had indeed caught on and if he had read her right, then her distrust had subsided somewhat. He was doing this right so far. Morgana was receptive to the possibility of him joining her side and she was still intrigued. It made Lucas feel as if he was victorious already. And that of course was a dangerous feeling, because he was not yet triumphant. He needed to exercise caution if he wanted to keep the witch interested. Showing triumph would certainly undo all the hard work he had poured into it. And failure was something he could not stand for.

‘But you’re not, are you, Lucas?’ Morgana smirked, proving to the Senior Case Officer that he would be right to proceed with caution. She knew he was not suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. That would have been his first approach to the situation, to make her believe that he was, but operational reasons dictated otherwise. ‘You would not be able to talk about it so rationally as you do if that had been the case.’

‘I am not, my lady.’ Lucas let the title slip in to get her attention, even while he was telling himself he was insane for even trying this. But it did seem like the best way to go about it, even if Ros would probably have pulled him out already if she had ever caught wind of the fact that he was doing it. What he would be trying to achieve was to make Morgana believe that he was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, even if he did not appear to believe so himself. It required all of his acting skills and all his concentration to pull it off, but he thought he could do it, even if he had to put his own sanity on the line to do so. It was not as if he had a whole lot of other choices.

The quick flash of intuition in Morgana’s eyes told him that so far at least this strategy was working. ‘Then why are you here?’ She gave him a once over. ‘You’re a traitor. You betrayed me to save my pathetic excuse for a half-brother. You’re not on my side.’

‘I am on my own side,’ Lucas informed her. ‘A rogue officer, as my former friends would call it. You see, they don’t trust me anymore.’ This too was true to a certain extent. While that knowledge hurt, it made the lie easier to tell. ‘My association with you has made me… unreliable, they think, dangerous even.’ As frightening as this was, it also gave him something that might be well be called adrenaline boost. He was on top of this game and Morgana was believing him. She still had not quite worked him out, but she was catching on, realising that she may not have lost all her allies after all. And she wanted to believe that, because it made her current situation a little less gloomy.

‘And are you?’ Morgana inquired, trying and failing to make her casual leaning on the altar look casual. ‘Dangerous?’

 _Depends on who you’re asking_. ‘I wouldn’t know,’ he replied.

‘Then why are you here?’ Morgana demanded. She was getting impatient. It could not have escaped her notice that he had so far failed to answer that particular question directly. He had been feeding her hints and she had swallowed them, but he had been careful to avoid giving a direct reply and he intended to keep it that way.

Lucas huffed. ‘You still do not understand that little world at all, my lady,’ he said. ‘They think I cannot be trusted any longer, which is why they kicked me out. I am no longer one of them.’ There, he had said it and now it was up to Morgana to decide what to do with it.

‘And yet you came back to me?’ The tone of voice was an interesting mixture of incredulity and hopefulness.

‘Where else do I go?’ Lucas countered. ‘And you need me.’

Lucas thought he had got her where he wanted her, but this had been the wrong thing to say. He knew it before the last word had even left his mouth. Morgana had not been ready for this. It was evident in the way her eyes narrowed. Her hand, that had been lying on the altar for the duration of their conversation now was half lifted, as if its owner had not quite decided if she should use it to cast a spell with, something that had not escaped Lucas’s notice.

She shook her head, smirk gone. Instead there was only ice-cold hatred left on her face. ‘I don’t trust you,’ the witch said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the cliffhanger, but it did seem like the best place to stop.  
> Next time there'll be more of the confrontation. In the meantime a comment would be lovely.


	48. Chapter 48

The Isle of the Blessed was a maze, Ros soon learned. Most of the buildings had collapsed and the ones that hadn’t were close to it. They ran into a few blockades made by fallen walls on their way to where Merlin believed Morgana to be. The Section Chief was tempted to demand how the hell he even knew that, but refrained from doing so. It was not as if they had very much to go on apart from Merlin’s intuition and now was decidedly not the time to argue.

And even she would have to admit that they were slowly getting closer to the centre of the Isle. She had a good sense of direction and they were getting to where they wanted to go. The only thing that she was not certain about was if that was where they needed to go. The Isle was larger than it had seemed from a distance and it had taken her less than two minutes to establish that there were hundreds of places the witch could be hiding out. She could be watching them this very minute from at least a dozen places and Ros would never be able to see her until it was far too late.

All this made her rather touchy-feely with her gun. The Section Chief knew that guns were not a lot of use against magic, but it was better than being entirely unarmed. And it would probably be a fair guess that Morgana was focusing her attention on Lucas, who was out there somewhere, alone and ridiculously vulnerable, something Ros feared. She should never have allowed him to do this on his own.

She quickly pushed the mental mute button before the sentiment could cloud her judgement any further. She was always quick to blame others for getting emotionally involved in operations, but now she had to be careful not to make the same stupid mistake. That same sentiment had driven her into Yalta’s waiting arms after Zaf’s disappearance and she remembered all too well the cost of that decision.

‘Are we there yet?’ Arthur’s annoyed hiss sounded like a child getting bored in the car after just a five minutes’ drive when there were still hours to go, but Ros found she was wondering about the same thing. They had been walking for at least ten minutes. Of course there had been blockades and dead ends, but she had hoped to be anywhere near their intended destination by now. And it did not exactly help that it was bloody difficult to see much with all those high walls around, crumbling or otherwise.

‘Nearly.’ Merlin’s patience seemed nearly non-existent by now. ‘One minute.’

Arthur at least had the good grace to shut up before Ros could tell him to in true Arthurian fashion. They followed the warlock through another set of alleys and hallways that were looking rather deserted. Merlin was leading, Arthur came after him and Ros covered their back. It was something that went without saying, but it was the best way to deal with the current situation. Both Merlin and Ros had weapons that were effective on a long distance, Arthur had not. The king only had his sword.

Merlin turned out to have spoken the truth. It hardly took them a minute and then the tall ruined buildings gave way for a large courtyard with an altar in the very middle of it. And the courtyard was not empty. Ros could see Morgana’s back. The witch stood next to the altar, looking basically the same as she had been the last time Ros had seen her. Some meters away from her was Lucas, concentrated and looking like he was on top of his game for once. It reassured her more than she was ready to admit to even herself.

‘Closer,’ she ordered. It was obvious that there was a conversation on-going between the two; Ros could hear the sound of their voices and Lucas was doing most of the talking, but she could not make out the exact words, not even with the advantage the acoustics of this place offered. And she needed to hear it, needed to be there, just in case it all went wrong.

Merlin nodded and led on, directing them to a place closer to Morgana than to Lucas, from where they could hear the conversation and could hide behind a large piece of wall that might at some point have belonged to a building that now no longer existed. 

‘Then why are you here?’ Morgana’s voice was cold and wary. ‘You’re a traitor. You betrayed me to save my pathetic excuse for a half-brother. You’re not on my side.’

Ros gave the witch a once over. She looked as determined and unyielding as Ros remembered her, but there was something different. It took her a few seconds before she had realised what exactly it was that was different: Morgana was still injured where she had been shot. And that was strange, because she was quite convinced a powerful witch like Morgana should be able to heal injuries like that within seconds. So why hadn’t she? Was she weaker than Ros had been led to believe if she could not pull that off? But that question aside, the fact remained that Morgana was not at her full strength, weakened and needing the support of that sodding altar to remain standing on her own two feet. That was good news, even if she doubted it would have any effect on the strength of Morgana’s spells. It did not seem very likely.

‘I am on my own side,’ Lucas replied. ‘A rogue officer, as my former friends would call it. You see, they don’t trust me anymore. My association with you has made me… unreliable, they think, dangerous even.’

Ros audibly sucked her breath in. That was a bloody dangerous game he was playing and he was treading a thin line doing this. Maybe this was even more dangerous than he had already done when he had first gone to Morgana with a false story. This, this was just the same, but this time the stakes were higher. And there was enough truth in his words to make Ros’s stomach twist and turn. Because although these words had not truly been spoken out loud, Ros knew the sentiment was felt and to her shame even by her. And Lucas knew that. It was evident from the words he spoke and the way he spoke them. He was playing this too close to home and if she had known what he was planning beforehand, she would have forbidden him to go in.

But now, she could not bring herself to end this. Because, had she been in his place, she would have done the same thing. This whole showdown reminded her painfully of another showdown in an old manor, when she had been trying to convince Yalta that she was still on their sides with reasons that were entirely too close to the truth.

Her hands clenched around her gun, fully prepared to use it should she get any indication that Morgana was going to turn violent. The Section Chief had been preparing for several scenarios since the moment she had heard this was what they were going to do. The first one was that she was going to give Lucas the chance to deal with this on his own, as he so clearly wanted, and _needed_. Colleagues were okay, they had agreed, and she had to believe that he was, had to believe that Lucas knew what he was doing. He knew Morgana better than any of them, and that included Merlin and Arthur, who had known her for far longer. Lucas understood her on a deeper level, and while that was an enormous danger, it was also a huge asset if he could keep himself from sympathising with her.

But Ros was a spook, someone who had to plan ahead in order to keep her country safe and preferably stay alive herself, in exactly that order. There was always a worst case scenario and she liked to prepare for them. In this case that meant that she was prepared to pull that trigger and kill the witch should she do anything Ros considered a danger to her colleague. And she knew herself well enough to know that she would not lose sleep over killing that woman from behind. And if she would, it was nothing the occasional vodka couldn’t sort.

But at first it would seem that she had worried for nothing. Lucas was holding his own better than expected given his recent ordeal and Morgana seemed to be a little more receptive to the possibility of the Senior Case Officer being on her side. She was actually starting to let herself believe that there was a real possibility that Lucas had made the right assessment with this and was close to turning her. Of course that was the moment it all went to hell.

‘Where else do I go?’ Lucas replied to Morgana’s incredulous question why he had come to her, even if he was telling the truth and his own friends had turned their back on him. ‘And you need me.’

Wrong thing to say. Ros knew it before he had even finished speaking and she involuntarily cringed inside. He had been too eager, had wanted results too soon. She could understand that. The temptation would be huge, the desire to end this enormous, but he ought to have known better than to try and go in for the kill this soon. This was asking for trouble, practically inviting it, and Morgana was still not entirely convinced. ‘Fool,’ she whispered under her breath. ‘Bloody fool!’

Arthur and Merlin tensed as well when they saw Morgana’s instant change in attitude. Where she had been suspicious in the extreme – almost to the point of plain old paranoia – but willing to listen, maybe even starting to allow herself to believe that she had an ally after all, she was hostile now. ‘I don’t trust you,’ she snapped. It escaped nobody’s notice that the hand she had used to lean on had left the altar. No doubt she was fully prepared to use magic, violent magic, unless Lucas somehow managed to talk her out of doing so. The fact that she had not yet attempted to blast him into oblivion was telling, but nevertheless Ros’s fingers clenched around the gun.

Arthur did not have as much self-restraint. He was already on his feet and in the process of drawing his sword. ‘Let’s go!’ he hissed at warlock and spy, clearly not understanding why they were not already standing and prepared to rush out like headless chickens to try and save the day. It seemed he was completely disregarding the fact that Morgana could magically kill him before he could get anywhere near her, but that was Arthur for you. He didn’t think anymore the moment he thought his friends were in danger, whether it was them being in danger of an insulting campaign led by Richard Dolby or being killed by Morgana’s magic. He just hurried to their aid and common sense had nothing to do with it.

‘Arthur, _no_!’ Merlin grabbed the nearest thing he could reach, Arthur’s cloak in this case, to pull him back down to the ground unceremoniously. The king landed on his backside, very unworthy of a king, but at least it prevented him from doing something incredibly and life-threateningly stupid.

Arthur of course did not appreciate that. ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded. ‘He’s in danger!’

‘You’ll be in danger if you go out there now!’ Merlin was positively furious and for just this once Ros could understand that.

‘As much as I’d hate to say it, he is bloody well right,’ she informed the king. ‘If you rush out there now, she’ll kill him. Give him a chance. He knows what he’s doing.’ Or at least he should know what he was doing. But it wasn’t the same thing and Ros was painfully aware of that.

Arthur looked like he was going to protest, but Ros fixed him with her sternest glare – the one that had made Samir the I-really-don’t-know-anything-else-I-swear-terrorist wet himself when she directed it at him – and he changed his mind.

Ros directed her attention to the scene in the courtyard again. Lucas had looked panicked for only a moment, but then he showed a relaxed smile. ‘Do you really think I am going to sell you to MI-5?’ he scoffed. ‘Do you really think that? I am not welcome with them any longer. My loyalties are no longer with them.’

Now it was Morgana’s turn to huff in disbelief. ‘ _Because I am MI-5. I was MI-5 all those years in prison, I was MI-5 when I came back and I am MI-5 still_.’ From the tone she was saying those words Ros thought it a fair guess that she was quoting Lucas. She was both quoting and mocking him and it made Ros’s stomach clench in something that might have been called fear if it wasn’t a fact commonly known that Ros Myers didn’t do fear.

Lucas dismissed it with another snort. ‘That was before they turned their backs on me. You see, Morgana, loyalty needs to come from both parties in order for it to work. And it doesn’t work anymore.’

‘You are not loyal to me.’ Morgana’s tone of voice was accusing and for a moment Ros feared that she had made a mistake in not stepping in after all, but then Lucas diffused the explosive comment seemingly without any trouble at all.

‘And you are not loyal to me,’ he told her, holding her gaze, face a perfectly blank mask. ‘I am not asking for loyalty. I am asking for an ally. You want Arthur Pendragon? Well, so do I. He turned his back on me when I risked my life for him. I want to make him pay for that. We share a common goal. My enemy’s enemy is my friend. Isn’t that the saying?’

Ros had to admire this, even if it was still all kinds of crazy. Maybe because it was so crazy Morgana would eventually fall for it. But even if she did, they would have to proceed with caution. The witch was no fool, no matter what Ros liked to believe, and she was wary to the point of being paranoid. Her trust could easily change into distrust within seconds if they did not play this right.

‘You are offering me your services, yet you are not loyal to me?’ Morgana did not seem terribly enthusiastic yet.

‘I propose that we work together for the time being,’ Lucas corrected. ‘I do not have any interest in being loyal to anyone. Apparently such things do not work for me. And they do not work for you either, so why bother with them?’

Ros knew this was a side of Lucas that Merlin in particular feared, because it confirmed just about everything he had thought about him when this operation had first begun. It was the cold and calculating, the being prepared to do anything to achieve his own goals that frightened the warlock. Ros hoped to God he was not thinking about suspecting him of really wanting to join Morgana all over again. The Section Chief knew that he had no intentions of ever doing that. The events of the last two weeks had proven that beyond the shadow of a doubt.

For a moment she started to believe that this strategy was going to work. Morgana was just as ruthless as Lucas pretended to be. She would be drawn to that if Ros understood that witch at all. Lucas was displaying a similar attitude as she practised. It had to work.

But it didn’t. Morgana shook her head. ‘Because I need to work with people I can rely on. I cannot rely on you. You may be telling the truth, but you already betrayed me once. I won’t risk you doing so another time.’ _And therefore I’ll have to kill you_. It were the words she didn’t say, but the words they all heard.

This was what she had been fearing. And Ros Myers did something she did not often do: she threw caution to the wind and got out of hiding, pointing her gun at the witch. ‘One wrong move and I’ll splash your brains all over that altar.’

She was pleasantly surprised to see the startled look on the witch’s face as she swivelled around to see who had spoken.

 

***

 

Merlin didn’t know if he should think it stupid that Ros had spoken up, or if he should admire her for the bravery to do so. He could not deny that it was probably a necessary thing to do right now, but to go at the most dangerous witch in the history of mankind with only a gun for protection, that was either insanely brave or just downright stupid.

But Ros Myers was like Arthur in that regard: she had absolutely no reservations when it came to protecting her team at all costs, even if that cost was her life, which could well be the case if she insisted on being so reckless. Morgana’s powers were impressive and lethal. If he needed any confirmation of that he only had to remember the station bombing. He did not recall the exact death count, but it had been high.

Arthur had already jumped up, craving the opportunity to do something, so Merlin followed suit. It would be no good to any of them if he sat back and did nothing while his friends got themselves into danger. And he was the only one on their side who could use magic and that was something they would need if they were to save this operation.

Morgana appeared to be startled and shocked as well. If anything, they had just discredited every word Lucas had told her, but since he was already in danger of getting killed, Merlin did not think that would matter. She recovered quickly though, facing them with something that might be called mocking. She did not believe that they were strong enough to take her on and recent events taken into consideration, Merlin was not entirely sure she had no reason to think that.

‘It seems we have company,’ she commented. She turned away from Lucas entirely to face the new arrivals, but her gaze was inevitably drawn to Arthur, who was walking just after Ros, trying to catch up with her. ‘Welcome, dear brother. It has been so long. What do you think about my new lodgings?’

‘Shabby,’ the king commented. It did not escape that Arthur had drawn his sword and was holding it in front of him protectively. He would be right to suspect foul play on Morgana’s part. Foul play was all she did nowadays, but a sword was not going to stop her from killing him. She had magic for that and ordinary weapons could do nothing to stop that. ‘Keep your hands where we can see them, Morgana. It’s over.’ The tone of voice was cold and commanding, so very different from the pleading tone Merlin had heard in the barn, just before it all went wrong. Things had changed since then. There was no affection for her left now. Maybe there was, deep down inside, but if that was the case it was buried deep. Arthur was completely focused on the job now.

Morgana cackled. There really was no other word for it. ‘You can’t kill me!’ She sounded almost incredulous. ‘I am too powerful for you.’

This was a challenge, and one Ros was fully prepared to meet. She fired a bullet, but Morgana had seen that move coming long ago. Even before the Section Chief had started to pull the trigger, she threw her hand forward, muttered an incantation and there was a shield rising up in front of her. The bullet was deflected and landed somewhere on the stone of the courtyard, doing no damage to anything or anyone whatsoever. Ros cursed, and not quite under her breath.

Morgana only seemed to think it terribly amusing, if her laughing was anything to go by anyway. ‘It won’t work,’ she informed the fuming Section Chief.

‘Oh, I would not say that.’ For some reason everyone had forgotten about Lucas the moment the three of them had barged in to keep Morgana from killing the spook. Morgana had even made the mistake to turn her back on him. And that this was a mistake became painfully clear now. While everyone had been distracted by Ros’s failed attempt to shoot Arthur’s half-sister, Lucas had sneaked up on Morgana and had grabbed her hands, holding them so that she could not use them to direct her spells.

This plan however had one fatal flaw. Morgana might have it easier if she had the use of her hands to do magic, but it was not necessary. Her magic closely resembled Merlin’s. Neither of them needed to have their hands, their mouth or their eyes to do magic. It was instinctive. They could be bound, gagged or blindfolded and still perform every spell they could under normal circumstances, be it a little less accurate. And Morgana would know that, he supposed. She knew she was powerful and she would use that power to her full advantage, Merlin knew.

Or maybe she did not know, because the mocking amusement had left her eyes the moment Lucas had grabbed her hands. There was a glimpse of something, fear, panic maybe, in her eyes before she got a hold of herself and hid it behind some mask or other. But the smirk was gone for real.

Lucas stood behind her, holding her against him, preventing Morgana from moving. The warlock did not think she could move at all if he did not allow it. The spook was physically stronger than Morgana, quite a bit stronger. And Morgana was already weakened by her injury, an injury that she for some reason either had chosen not to heal, which Merlin thought unlikely, or had been unable to heal. That too did not make much sense, but maybe there was something about the weapons from the twenty-first century that was different for sorcerers. He didn’t know and at the moment he was not truly inclined to spare it much thought. It was just the way it was and that was what he needed to deal with now.

‘Do it,’ Lucas said. He had locked eyes with Ros, giving her a curt nod. His face was carefully wiped blank, no emotion visible on it.

Maybe that was why Merlin was so surprised to see emotion on Ros’s. Her hands were shaking slightly and if he had not known better he would have said that there were tears in her eyes. What on earth was the matter here? Ros Myers, crying? Why would she do that? Why would she hesitate? Morgana was clearly not aware that her magic could also be used when she was being restrained and that was giving them the best opportunity they had had since the start of this entire operation. And Ros didn’t seem like the person to have much trouble with shooting people. Merlin had taken her for the kind of woman who could kill a person without batting an eyelash and then go on with whatever it was she had been doing before, not sparing the killing as much as a second thought.

Lucas too could see the hesitation. ‘Shoot her, Ros,’ he snapped at his colleague.

But Ros did not shoot. She just stood there, gun at the ready, but not moving. It was almost as if she had frozen into place. And it refused to make sense to him. Why did she not shoot? She had the chance now!

His eyes strayed to the gun and then the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. He recalled the first time he had seen a gun being fired the day they had first run into the spooks and their suspect. The terrorist – or at least Merlin suspected that he was one – had fired his own gun, but because Ros had dived at him at the same moment his aim had been off and the bullet had most likely ended up somewhere in the forest instead. But Merlin had magically slowed down the time and seen the force and speed with which aforementioned bullet had gone up into the air, remembered thinking that such a weapon could cause untold damage to the human body.

And if there was such speed behind such a weapon, would that bullet then simply stop once it was embedded in a body or would it go on, regardless of what stood in its way, harming whatever it could before it lost its speed and crashed to the ground? Ros’s current behaviour seemed to suggest that it would be the last option. And in that case she would kill Lucas as well as Morgana the moment she pulled that trigger. After she had gone to the extremes to keep her colleague alive, it was wholly understandable that she did not want to be the one to kill him, even if it meant killing Morgana with him. Even now that Lucas seemed prepared to lay down his life if that meant they could kill Morgana, Ros was clearly not prepared to do it.

And that hesitation cost them. Morgana may not be aware of the possibility of using magic without the use of her hands, but she did not need her magic to fight. She had been trained to along with Arthur from a rather young age. And Lucas did not know that. So when she kicked his legs unexpectedly, he cursed and foolishly let go of her hands. Morgana used that opportunity to fling him away from her. Lucas landed several meters away from her on the hard stones. He did not seem unconscious, but the fact that he did not get up was not a very good sign.

And Morgana knew that. She laughed at them. ‘You cannot stop me,’ she informed them. ‘None of you can!’ She spoke those words in a way as if she knew something none of them did, never a good sign with her.

Ros still had her gun aimed at Morgana’s head and now Lucas was no longer involved, her hands were no longer shaking. She was fully prepared to fire again if Morgana gave her as much as half a chance.

‘Can’t or won’t, Morgana?’ To Merlin’s surprise it was Arthur who spoke up. He had been remarkably quiet throughout the entire encounter, but he hadn’t missed anything.

The witch seemed far too relaxed and at ease for this situation and it made Merlin’s stomach twist itself into knots. This was not good. ‘Oh, I think you wouldn’t, dear brother,’ she said mockingly. ‘You’re too soft-hearted to do what it takes. But even if you would, you couldn’t.’

For a moment Merlin stupidly wondered if she had spent time with Kilgharrah and if that was the reason she was suddenly speaking in riddles, but then he remembered that Kilgharrah was more likely to burn her to cinders than he was to give Morgana advice. It did not solve his question, though. And what on earth did she mean?

Arthur’s thoughts seemed to have been running along the same lines. ‘Why is that?’ he questioned.

Morgana’s trademark smirk returned. ‘Because you are not Emrys,’ she explained. ‘It has been foretold that he is my destiny and my doom. You are not him. You can’t harm me.’

 _But I can_. Merlin felt like he had been whacked over the head with the cook’s finest frying pan, the impact of Morgana’s words was that huge. He had no idea where Morgana had learned of these words, but it only confirmed what he himself had already suspected needed to happen. He had to be the one to put an end to Morgana.

He already knew Arthur was not the man to do it. He would do it when necessary, but he would hate himself for it afterwards. And really, Arthur should not be forced to kill his family. There was something completely and infinitely wrong with that. Killing one’s own family was frowned upon in every society Merlin had ever heard of and Camelot was not an exception. This could be asked of no one.

Lucas was currently in no condition to do anything. He was slowly trying to work himself into a sitting position, but he was looking rather cross-eyed from his encounter with the stone floor. It was a good thing that he could not see any blood, but the spook could still very well be concussed. At any rate he did not look like he was about to be moving anytime soon.

Ros was a more likely candidate for killing Morgana and she looked actually like she would like to do nothing better than put a bullet in Morgana’s brain. She had already attempted to do so and her gun still had to be lowered. And Ros Myers was a dangerous enemy, someone no one wanted to be on the wrong side of. And Morgana had gotten on her bad side by abducting and torturing someone Ros believed herself to be responsible for. It was almost a plea to be killed, because Ros was nothing if not protective of her team.

But the Section Chief did not have any magic. Morgana had already proven that she could easily take on that gun. Had she felt so inclined, she could have killed Ros in the same movement. But she had not and that proved that she was playing with them. She didn’t think they stood a chance against her and she was enjoying that fact far more than she should.

And that only left Merlin. It was more or less his mistake that Morgana had become like this, because if he had told her about his powers when hers first started to reveal themselves, then she would have had someone to turn to and things might have turned out altogether different. Now it was up to him to correct that error and apparently it even fit with some prophecy Morgana had heard. And Merlin by now knew better than to disregard those.

‘You’re wrong, Morgana.’ He was a little shocked to hear how calm he sounded, how in control and at the same time distant as well. It was almost as if someone else was speaking.

Morgana snorted. ‘Arthur is Emrys? _Please_ , Merlin.’ Her attention was now focused on him. She did not seem to think any of the others particularly important. Thus far her eyes had never left the gun in Ros’s hands, but they did now and she did not even seem to be fully aware of that.

‘No, Arthur is not Emrys,’ he admitted, still in that cold tone of voice. It did not even really sound like him. ‘But I think you know who is.’

Morgana for a moment looked completely confused.

Merlin decided to provide her with some extra information. ‘Did you not think he looked familiar in some way?’ The longer he talked, the more her attention would be drawn from Ros and her gun. Her eyes still occasionally flashed in the Section Chief’s direction, every time Ros seemed to be about to pull the trigger. And so it would be up to him to make Arthur’s half-sister forget about the gun. And he thought he knew exactly how to do that. ‘You always thought the eyes were like the eyes of someone you knew, that the insults were sounding remarkably like someone else’s,’ he went on. ‘You already know that I have magic, that I have been thwarting you at every turn. Did you truly never realise?’

The realisation dawned. Merlin could see it in her eyes. There was shock, understanding, but disbelief as well. ‘Impossible…’ she whispered.

‘Not impossible,’ Merlin disagreed. ‘I am Emrys.’ For some reason it felt liberating to finally say it, to finally stop hiding who he was all the time.

Morgana’s eyes widened. She openly stared at him now and with something of fear as well.

It didn’t last long. A shot rang out. And Morgana was too late. Ros’s bullet had already hit her body before she could even launch a defence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll readily admit that I took some liberty with the whole Merlin is Morgana’s doom thing. To me he still is, just in a slightly different way. Anyway, I hope that makes sense to you. It did in my head anyway.  
> So, only two chapters left now. I’ll be posting some outtakes in Just Another Not So Normal Situation as well, but that might take a while. I put one up Monday, but I’m not sure when I’ll get the rest done.  
> Next one for this story should be up Saturday. In the meantime please comment? I’d really like to know what you thought about this one.


	49. Chapter 49

It felt like something that happened in a dream, albeit a very bad dream, when Morgana crashed to the ground. Her body hit the stone floor with something of a thud and for some reason it froze Arthur into place.

He had long since known that Morgana was a threat they could not allow to exist any longer, yet when he saw her fall as a result of the bullet Ros had fired at her, he could only feel sadness and regret. The Section Chief was a good shot, he knew, and she was shooting to kill. If Morgana was not dead already, she would soon be.

The king of Camelot had been mostly silent during the final showdown, watching more than he was participating. He felt like he had not much to contribute to it and while this frustrated him to absolutely no end, he also knew this was not the time to act on that frustration. He did not have a gun like Ros, but even if he’d had one, he was not entirely sure if he would really have been capable of using it. The shooting needed to be done by someone who would not regret it later, who could pull that trigger without a second thought the moment an opportunity presented itself. Arthur knew he could never have done that.

Neither did he have Lucas’s courage to grab Morgana and put his own life at risk the way he had done. At first he had not understood why Ros hesitated to shoot when she had Morgana at gunpoint and unable to do anything and by the looks of things, Merlin had not understood it either. The realisation dawned for the both of them at practically the same time. Because a bullet that travelled so fast would not just kill Morgana, it would kill the one who was holding her as well. And the female spy was not about to kill the colleague she had fought so hard to protect in the first place.

Arthur admired Lucas’s courage. Arthur would never call himself a coward, but he had more than a few reservations about going anywhere near magic. It frightened him, because it was not the kind of thing one could fight with a sword or defend oneself from with a shield. To Arthur it felt in a strange way like cheating. But it was unpredictable as well and that was what scared him most about it. A blow with a sword one could hear and see coming. That advantage was not there when there was magic involved. Magic just was. It came and killed before the victim could even see it coming.

And he did not have magical powers like Merlin either. That rendered him positively useless in this showdown. For quite possibly the first time in his life, Arthur Pendragon was the most useless man on the ground and it was not a feeling he liked, or would want to get accustomed to. He was a man of action; the first to attack and the last to retreat. To be reduced to a watcher on the side-line conflicted with everything he had ever learned about the knight’s code and his own sense of duty to protect his kingdom. Having other people do that for him was not something he liked.

But now he was forced to watch as Morgana flung Lucas away from her person as if he was no more than a ragdoll. It did not even seem to take her much effort. And then she laughed, mocked them as she told them they could not kill her.

‘Can’t or won’t, Morgana?’ he heard himself asking sharply. He had not given himself permission to speak, but when he checked, he had.

‘Oh, I think you wouldn’t, dear brother,’ Morgana taunted. She really was rubbing his nose in the fact that his attempt to put an end to her life in the barn had been as unsuccessful as Ros’s attempt to shoot her just now. And with him it was not because of Morgana’s magic that he had failed, it was his own sentimentality, as the Section Chief would call it, that held him back. ‘You’re too soft-hearted to do what it takes. But even if you would, you couldn’t.’

Morgana had been speaking in riddles, as if she knew something that they did not. But she was bragging now and that had always been a particular weakness of his half-sister’s. She was almost incapable of not revealing it. ‘Why is that?’ he asked, sounding as sceptical as he possibly could to trigger Morgana into a reaction.

She did for once not fail to live up to his expectations. ‘Because you are not Emrys,’ she informed him. ‘It has been foretold that he is my destiny and my doom. You are not him. You can’t harm me.’

And indeed Arthur could not. But he knew the man who could and it took him all his willpower not to look in his servant’s direction, because that would have given it away. He did remember Merlin telling the spooks plus Arthur in the meeting room that Morgana was very scared of Merlin’s old man disguise, which she knew as Emrys. Now it became clear why that was. And if Merlin did not shy away from what needed doing, then they could use this to their advantage.

And he did use it to his advantage, just not quite in the way Arthur had expected him to. Merlin kept her talking, distracting Morgana from the gun Ros still kept pointed in her direction. And Arthur understood what he did. Morgana would be able to react to the situation if she kept Ros within her line of sight at all times, but if she did not, she was vulnerable. Bullets travelled fast and his half-sister could not do anything anymore once it was already airborne. It was too fast for even Morgana’s magical reflexes.

And she was distracted, enough to allow Ros to take that shot. And it was Merlin’s rather dramatic revelation that allowed her to do so. In that way, Arthur supposed, Merlin was truly Morgana’s doom. He had made her forget about the real danger and had thus had a hand in her downfall. Prophecies were truly tricky things and should, the king decided, never be taken too literate.

But this was not the time to think about such things, because seeing Morgana crash to the ground was one of the most horrible things he had seen in a long time. For some reason he could not quite comprehend he was still unable to not see the old Morgana he had known when he looked on the new one, the one that had changed so much he barely recognised her. He could not just forget that once they had been as close as siblings ought to be and he missed that girl, even now she was so twisted and downright evil.

And therefore he did not really stop to think his actions through. When he saw her fall, he rushed to her side. He could hear Merlin and Ros shout warnings, but he ignored them. Merlin maybe could understand what this meant to him, but Ros could not. She had never known Morgana at all. To her she was just a threat to national security and Merlin always was too concerned with Arthur’s safety before he thought about anything else, so his reaction made sense as well.

But Arthur had none of those concerns at the present time and so he raced over to the place where Morgana lay. There was far too much blood on both the dress and the ground, but his sister’s chest was still rising and falling with her breathing and Arthur exhaled in a relief he was not supposed to be feeling at all.

‘Morgana!’ He knelt down next to her and saw the woman he had grown up with. The mask of cold hatred had slipped and all he could see was the pleading glance she had also unleashed on him when she had gotten herself into a real tight spot with Uther when she was still a young girl and had spoken out too loud again. Arthur knew he should be fearing her, because dying or not, she could still be dangerous, but he could not bring himself to be weary now.

‘Brother.’ Morgana’s tone of voice was too feeble. She did not even sound like herself anymore, neither like the kind-hearted girl nor like the evil witch she had become. It reminded Arthur of a young girl in desperate need of help, help that he was unable to give to her.

‘Merlin!’ he yelled over his shoulder. ‘Can’t you do something?’ Why was he even doing this? He should not be willing to rescue Morgana, not when it was by her hand that so many others had died. The kingdom would be safer with her dead, but he found that he could not just sit by and watch her die when he had just seen a glimpse of the woman he had long since believed gone. If there was still a chance, no matter how small, that she could change again, should they not take it?

Ros’s stare told him he was an idiot. She didn’t even need to say it. In her eyes he should probably thank her for what she had done. Good grief, even his common sense demanded of him that he thanked her. Maybe, one day, he would. He could not do it yet.

Merlin did not understand it either. He too seemed sad, but determined. Had he been like this when he had first been forced to poison Morgana in order to save the kingdom? He had really made that choice to let her die then. But he hadn’t, not really, had he? Because in the end he had entrusted her to Morgause to try and find a remedy. He too had backed out of his chosen course at the last possible moment. Could he not do so again?

But Merlin looked alarmingly determined _not_ to do it again. Maybe Ros had given him a lecture on not letting his personal feelings get in the way of an operation. She was in that regard the living example of practising what she preached. No matter what had happened during the operation and how that affected her, it had never held her back from doing what needed doing and it would now seem that this attitude was catching.

Only in Lucas’s eyes did he detect understanding. But then, he had come close to Morgana, closer than he should have been. There was another one who would not come out of this unchanged.

‘I don’t think that’s possible,’ Merlin said. The words sounded strained. The servant apparently felt more than the stony expression on his face suggested. ‘I don’t think magic can heal bullet wounds.’

Arthur feared the same thing, but he did not like to hear it. He looked again at Morgana. She was pale and still looking up at him with panic written all over her face. Yes, she was still the same witch Ros had shot, but now the other Morgana, the true Morgana in Arthur’s opinion, was shining through again. That was the Morgana who had risked everything to help others, who had stood up for those who could not stand up for themselves, who had not been misled by Morgause for so long until she could no longer see the truth from lie.

‘I’m here,’ he told her. If there was nothing that could be done, he at least owed it to her to remain with her to the very end. It was a way of repaying her for all the good times they’d had together. And no one should have to be alone in their dying moments. It was for the good of the kingdom that his half-sister had to die, but she would not die alone. ‘I’ve got you.’

Arthur slipped an arm around her and pulled her head and torso into his lap. Morgana winced and whimpered, but he did it all the same. It was the right thing to do. And he could tell Morgana was not going to harm him. He did not even know how he could be so certain. It was just one of those things he knew. And maybe her magic wasn’t as strong as it had been now that she was dying.

‘Leave me.’ Morgana’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the two words were clearly audible. She may be dying, but that did not mean she suddenly tolerated Arthur’s presence now. Not too long ago she had wanted him dead. There was no reason why she would like him anywhere near her.

But he was still not going to let her die all alone. ‘No,’ the king told her. ‘I am not going anywhere.’ Ros would call this sentimentality and be right about it too, but it wasn’t a danger to him now. For just this once he could afford to be led by his feelings. ‘You won’t die alone.’

Telling a dying person that they were dying might not have been the best thing to do, but Arthur had never been the most tactful person around and the Morgana he had known would not have appreciated him beating around the bush. She would have wanted him to be honest with her, even if it was a hard truth.

‘Leave me.’ The command was unmistakable.

‘Why, Morgana?’ Arthur heard himself ask, knowing that he was not asking her why she had wanted him to leave. _Where did we go wrong? How did we ever become enemies? Could it not have gone in any different way, a way that would not have led to us ending here?_

Morgana was struggling to breathe, but the fight had not left her eyes just yet. His sister had not resigned herself to dying. She simply was too stubborn for that. But it was a fight that she was doomed to lose and they both knew it.

And Arthur found that all he could feel was regret. He could not have felt hatred if he had tried, not when Morgana was who he remembered her to be. The memories were going round and round in his head _. Why could we not have remained like that? Carefree, happy, arguing like siblings should._ It was a shame they only seemed to be able to achieve that now that Morgana was dying.

But it was not the old Morgana that answered his question with her dying breath. It was the new, misled Morgana that spoke. ‘I only wanted what was rightfully mine,’ she whispered. It sounded feeble and cajoling, but it contained all the belief she had ever had in her cause, the one she believed to be a rightful one.

And those were her last words. Her eyes closed, her breathing stopped and her heart ceased to beat. Morgana Pendragon, whose attacks had plagued Camelot for so long, was no more, but she left her half-brother with only a confirmation that she truly had become who she had been shown herself to be in these past few years.

Arthur Pendragon wept.

 

***

 

Arthur was remarkably subdued when the company of four made their way to the place where the boat and ferryman were still waiting for them, according to Lucas. It was one of the few things to be grateful for today. The other thing was Morgana’s demise, although Arthur clearly did not seem to feel the same. In this particular regard both king and warlock were riddles wrapped up in mysteries. That woman had been trying to kill them, would have done so if she was given the chance, and yet Arthur still rushed out to hold her as she died, even as she clearly still felt the same as she had always done.

But Ros Myers could not be really bothered with it now. Her work here was done. Now all that remained for her to do was to go back to London and get back to her normal work. The sooner this venture into the past had been forgotten, the better it would be for all of them. She would never admit this to anyone but herself, but this operation had been far outside her comfort zone. She yearned to get back to Thames House and get involved in a mission that did not threaten to get her so emotionally involved as this one.

‘Penny for your thoughts, boss?’ Lucas asked. There was a small smile on his face and he was clearly trying to make small talk, but his heart wasn’t in it. He had been too emotionally involved in this operation as well, more than she had been. He may deny the Stockholm Syndrome all he wished, but he had been too close to Morgana and Ros for one did not think he could look on her passing without mixed feelings. But fortunately those feelings were no longer a real issue now. Morgana was dead and that was the end of it.

She snorted. ‘What makes you think I’m sharing them with you?’

He shrugged. ‘Pure optimism.’

Ros did appreciate the attempt at humour. It reminded her of the colleague she had come to know before the legendary king and warlock had stumbled into their lives and the whole thing had gone horribly wrong. Although, if she was really honest, this could all still have happened if they had never met, because Morgana had already created that bloody portal of hers. She would have created carnage either way and without Arthur and Merlin’s help, things might have gone a whole lot worse than they would if they were there. Now there was an unwelcome thought.

‘I’d kill for a cup of coffee,’ she replied. It was not the answer to his question, but he might see it as that.

Lucas grinned that lopsided grin of his. A hint of it even reached his eyes, which meant that she was on the right track. _Hang on, Myers, since when do you provide humour therapy for your officers?_ She really must be getting soft if it was coming to that and that was not a thought Ros Myers particularly liked at all.

‘Is that why you’ve been scowling at everyone since we’ve arrived in Camelot?’ he inquired playfully. ‘I swear Gwaine cowers away whenever you come anywhere near him. What did you do to make him think I needed back-up when I went to meet you anyway?’

Ros could feel the corners of her mouth curling up of their own volition. ‘I told him to sod off after he stared at anything but my face when we first met.’

There was a short silence, but then she was rewarded for her efforts – hang on, she was making a bloody effort for this? – by a bark of genuine laughter, something she hadn’t heard from him in quite some time. ‘I’m sure he loved it. The way I heard it, he’s not often rejected.’

‘There’s a first for everything,’ Ros said briskly. ‘Now, where the hell is that boat of yours?’ She felt as if she had been walking around this place for ages and for all she knew they could be walking in circles. All those ruined buildings looked the same after a while.

‘Close by,’ her colleague reassured her. ‘Half a minute at most.’

She took his word for it. After all, he had walked here before, so he ought to know where he was going, especially with that photographic memory of his. And true to his word they went through a small gateway with no actual gate in it and they found themselves on a small quay where a boat was waiting, with the same ferryman in it that Ros had seen on the other side of the lake.

‘Let me do the talking,’ Lucas muttered in her ear. The two of them were walking in front of king and very taciturn warlock, but Ros didn’t think either of those would have taken the lead in this even if they had been walking in front of the spooks. They had retreated to their own minds, wallowing in their feelings so much that Ros was starting to feel the urge to snap them out of it. Their guilt and grief practically radiated off them and in the Section Chief’s opinion, those were wasted on such a waste of space as Morgana had been.

They had burned the witch – with Merlin’s magic, since wood was not readily available on this Isle – by way of a funeral, because Ros had instantly vetoed the notion of taking that woman’s body back with them to give her a proper funeral. Arthur had been protesting until Ros told him she was in charge of the operation and they were going to do this her way. Of course Arthur was the king and technically there was no rank she could pull on him. But he had been too distressed to realise – doubtlessly he would remember later – and she had gotten her way.

The man in the boat looked up at them from under his hood when they were less than a meter away from him. He was one of those people that were completely unreadable.  Not a thing could be learned from that face and that was not something Ros liked. She was used to reading people, taking the measure of them so that she knew who and what she was dealing with. With this man, that was quite impossible.

‘Can you take us back now?’ Lucas sounded rather respectful when he asked that question, a lot more respectful than Ros was used to from him.

The man’s eyes glanced over their small group and then held out a hand in a wordless and timeless demand for money. He didn’t say a single word.

‘You were paid already,’ Lucas pointed out.

‘All must be paid for,’ was the curt reply.

Greedy bastard. Ros had to forcefully prevent herself from gritting her teeth in anger and frustration, because as far as she was aware none of them were carrying any money on their person. All such things had been left with the knights on the main land. And what this blasted man was trying to convey was that they would not be allowed to cross unless they paid him, which, as she had just realised, was an impossibility. Oh, Lucas of course would be allowed to cross, so he could get back, get the money and then come back for them, but Ros found she did not have the patience for that. She just wanted to get away from here and she wanted away from here this instant.

And there were more ways to skin a cat, or a ferryman for that matter. ‘Yeah, well, it’s either you take us back without proper payment or I’ll put a bullet in your brain and we’ll take ourselves back.’ She had already shot a woman today and although she did not particularly feel like shooting a man simply because he annoyed her, she had no doubt that this man had also been one of Morgana’s employees.

The Section Chief pulled out the gun and directed it at the man’s head to apply some extra pressure. She only realised that this man had no idea what a gun even was, never mind that he knew to what effect it could be used, when he stared at it blankly. Now that did seem to be his default setting, but he genuinely did not seem to know what she was doing. ‘All must be paid for,’ he repeated.

All must be transported back to the main land more like. Ros actually was _this_ close to snapping at Merlin to get his dragon back here, but said dragon did not seem to be too willing to be used as a horse and if Ros was quite honest, she didn’t fancy making another flight like that very much. Once had been more than enough for her. She was not particularly afraid of heights, but the risk of falling off was bigger when experiencing those heights from atop a dragon’s back.

To demonstrate her point she fired a warning shot over his head. The bullet embedded itself in a nearby ruin. ‘This is where we stand,’ Ros informed the boatman. ‘I have a weapon, you don’t. I have already used this one to kill your late employer and I do not have any reservations about killing you as well if you don’t comply with my wishes this instant. The choice is all yours.’

And it was a choice that was swiftly made. For the first time that stony face showed a flicker of unease and then its owner made what could be interpreted as an inviting gesture. Ros beckoned for Merlin and Arthur to get in, which they did, albeit Merlin threw her a disapproving stare in passing. The Section Chief did not feel particularly impressed; if he disapproved that much, he would have spoken up. It was telling that he had done no such thing.

She used the dynamic duo as a buffer zone as Lucas and she took the back seats of the boat, keeping king and warlock between her and the by now chagrined looking ferryman. Ros was not sure if that man had any magic of his own, but in this case it was better to be safe than to be sorry.

The moment everyone was seated the boat started to move of its own volition. As far as Ros could tell, no one had done anything to make that happen. She would never admit to thinking that creepy and unnerving out loud, but that was what it was.

‘Charming,’ Lucas commented when he sat down next to her.

‘I didn’t have time for any of that bloody nonsense.’ Her word were snappier than she had intended them to be, but she was undeniably tired. She had not gotten a lot of rest while they were on the op and now the adrenaline was starting to leave her system, she felt exhausted. A good night’s sleep would be just what she needed.

And the fact remained that she had just killed a person. That did play into it as well. She had thought before that there was nothing in her line of work the occasional vodka could not sort and she would stand by that. _Don’t make a decision you can’t live with_. That was what she had been taught in training years ago. She could live with this and she certainly would not lose any sleep over it. It wasn’t worth her time. Morgana had been a waste of space, although admittedly a dangerous waste of space. The world would be well rid of her. But killing someone did make an impact, no matter how evil and deranged they had been. It did not help the case either that two people in the current company were in mourning for that witch. The third could be, but it was hard to tell for sure. It always was with him.

‘I know.’ Lucas at least did not seem to be judging her, for which Ros was secretly grateful. Then, to her great surprise, he took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Thank you, Ros. You saved my life there.’ Only a fool would miss out on the genuine gratefulness in his voice.

 _And you would have me take it, you bloody fool_. If there was one event burned on her mind’s eye, then it was that one: Lucas offering his life so that they could take Morgana’s. And he had been ready to really do it. He had been prepared to die so that they could conclude the operation. It had been her who had not been willing to pay that price. She would have blamed any other who would have let such a chance slip through their fingers, but Ros did not regret her actions, not when it turned out there were still other options.

She settled for a snort. ‘Then you had better make sure it doesn’t need saving the next time.’ Flippancy worked. It stopped her from showing the things she felt and she was not planning on sharing those. Colleagues were okay, all of them, but it started dawning on the Section Chief that some were more okay than others, that some in fact were starting to become more like friends. _Stop it, Myers. Friends only annoy you_.

Lucas seemed to sense the need for an absolute lack of deep emotions on Ros’s part and fortunately complied with the unspoken request. He cracked a smile. ‘I’ll keep that in mind next time, boss.’

‘You’d better.’ She tried and absolutely failed to make it sound like a threat. She blamed the sudden weariness caused by the equally sudden lack of adrenaline in her blood for it. If anything, she was not exactly on top of her game right now. ‘You got emotionally involved, Lucas.’ The words had left her mouth before she had given them permission to do so. So much for avoiding the deep emotions and the sensitive subjects.

Because in this case the words pot, kettle and black sprang to mind. She too would have to plead guilty here. That sentimentality had stayed her hand when she had Morgana at gunpoint. It could have cost them the entire operation and, had things not gone the way they had, she would have been to blame for that. It did however not mean she regretted her actions. Lucas was alive because of them.

Her colleague did look a bit guilty. ‘I know. I’m sorry, Ros.’

She huffed. ‘You better remember that. The next time I might have to send you to Tring.’

A brilliant smile, akin to Merlin’s most dazzling smile, lit up his entire face. He reminded Ros of a school boy who has just learned he received top marks in all his classes. ‘You mean you’re not sending me this time?’

That reaction told her she had made the right call. ‘Bloody waste of time and resources,’ she said dismissively, and truthfully. In Ros’s opinion there was no worse punishment for a spook than to be sent to the shrinks. That had not stopped Harry from trying to get her to see one after her own near-death experience and Adam’s death. It was bad enough she had to endure those annual psych assessments, so she avoided any other attempt of strangers to get into her head. As a spy she had little enough privacy as it was, so she liked to keep what little she had. And it was not as if those learned bookworms actually understood what spooks faced on a daily basis.

‘Thanks, Ros.’ And that was twice now that he had thanked her.

She dismissed it, not knowing what to do with so much emotion directed at her person. ‘Yeah, well, I need you on the Grid, Lucas,’ she said brusquely. ‘Not cooped up on some shrink’s sofa.’ Realising that might have been a bit too blunt, she added: ‘And you did a good job there. I could not have done what you did.’ It was far too soppy for her liking, but Lucas was the kind of man who occasionally needed the soppy element in his life. And heaven knew it was true what she had just said. She could never have gotten Morgana to trust her the way she had done Lucas.

She had expected Lucas to react with more gratefulness she wouldn’t know how to deal with, but instead he grinned widely. ‘That would have been an accomplishment indeed,’ he agreed.

For just this once she did not have a clue as to what he was talking about. She herself knew why she could not have done it, but she had not expected him to know. So what did he mean? She arched an eyebrow in an unspoken request to elaborate.

He did, widening that grin so much Ros was almost surprised his face didn’t split in half. ‘It’s just that I never took you for the type who could pretend to fall in love with a woman,’ he clarified with that stupid cheeky smile that could annoy her to absolutely no end.

Yet today she could not have stopped herself from cracking a similar one even if she had been threatened to spend the next week on a shrink’s sofa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the epilogue left now and that should be up Wednesday. Until then, please review?


	50. Epilogue

_“I dare you to move,_

_I dare you to life yourself up off of the floor,_

_I dare you to move like today never happened before.”_

**Dare You to Move, Switchfoot**

 

* * *

 

Arthur looked out over the altogether noisy banquet hall, watching the people celebrate Morgana’s demise. Of course it wasn’t phrased like that. They celebrated that Camelot was free of her, would never have to fear her attacks and schemes again. The very same people who a few years ago had raised their glasses in a toast to Morgana’s health, now celebrated her death. Something about that seemed horribly wrong.

Of course things were not quite as simple as that. Far too much had changed since those days. Morgana had not been the king’s loving ward for quite some time. She had become someone everyone in their right mind would fear, did fear. Yet Arthur found it hard to get the memory of her dying in his arms out of his heart and mind. And she had not even appreciated the gesture he had made, which hurt all the more.

All in all, Arthur Pendragon was not in the celebrating mood at all, but this was one of those things he owed to his people. And besides, it was not just about Morgana’s death. There also was the element of honouring the spooks for their part in the operation, something Arthur was not very keen to forget. The part they had played in all of this was huge and especially Lucas and Ros deserved recognition for what they had done. He had already raised a toast in their honour to which Lucas had reacted with a respectful nod in the king’s direction and Ros with a scowl that Arthur allowed himself to think was only because of the fact that he had addressed her by her full name again.

For now things were good. The kingdom was at peace, the biggest threat removed and there was nothing to indicate that this could change anytime soon. This, this peacefulness, was what he had been fighting for, but if the king of Camelot was really honest, not all was well. There was still something that had not been resolved.

He sought out his servant with his eyes. Merlin was on the other side of the hall, joking and laughing with Elyan. He had insisted to be kept out of the whole honouring business, because, in his own words, he was more use behind the scenes and it would not do for him to be in the centre of the attention. Yet he had done as much as the spooks had done and it felt wrong not to acknowledge that in public.

But that was only a part of it, Arthur knew. He had not been protesting Merlin’s wishes that much, because he still needed to work out what to do with the warlock’s magic. He needed to work out what to make of magic itself even. And that was a difficult issue. He had contemplated discussing it with Guinevere, but had promptly decided that was something he would keep as a last resort. In essence this was something he had to work out on his own.

The main question here was, did he believe that magic could be used for good? He thought he could answer that one with a yes. He had seen that for himself when Merlin rescued a little girl from a bomb explosion almost on instinct, without thinking. Did he believe that magic was used for good, apart from Merlin, that was? And that was where it did get tricky. Because Arthur was not at all certain of that. He had seen too much damage caused by sorcerers, too much lives taken by that force no sword could stand against. All his life he had only seen people use it for their own ends, for their own gains. Good grief, he had even lost both his parents to it.

Merlin really was the exception to the rule. Of course he claimed that was not entirely true and that there were more people like him, but they were in hiding, keeping their powers a secret in order to stay hidden and remain alive. There was logic in those words as well.

And even when this whole magic thing would be resolved, that would leave them with all the personal issues caused by the now concluded operation.  They still had not worked that out and they should if they wanted to get back to normal and the king found that was really what he wanted most, have things being normal and predictable again after all the chaos of the last two weeks. They had called a truce before, but a truce was not lasting peace, as Arthur knew all too well.

‘Can I get you anything else, sire?’ In the time that Arthur had been deep in thought, Merlin had quit talking to Elyan and walked over to his king.

Arthur grimaced. ‘Since when do you call me sire, Merlin?’ he questioned. If anything, this was a dead giveaway that things had not yet been mended.

Merlin flashed a brilliant smile that nevertheless did not reach his eyes. ‘Well, you are the king, right?’

Great, he was in an evasive mood. Arthur knew from experience that it was almost impossible to get anything from him at all when he was being like that and right now that annoyed him to no end. It meant that a conversation was out of the question. Not that this was the perfect time and place for such a conversation, but Arthur had always been the impulsive one. When he got something in his head it needed to happen here and now.

 _Stop bloody well annoying me_. ‘Merlin, you can’t keep doing this,’ he told the warlock.

‘Do what?’ Merlin gave him his most innocent everything-is-completely-all-right-look, but he only looked like that when things were anything but all right. Arthur knew him long enough to know.

‘Evade the questions.’ Arthur was known for being blunt, was infamous for it even, and although he had been forced to exercise more caution with his words these days – because a king could not just say whatever he wanted – this was not the time to keep beating around the bush. ‘Merlin, we need to have a talk.’ And how he dreaded it already. ‘A proper talk this time. The day after tomorrow, lunch time.’ He was starting to copy the spooks’ way of communicating, but he could not care less.

Merlin thought about that for a moment, but then his face lit up in that dazzling smile he only showed when he was really happy. ‘In short, when your hangover is gone and you won’t be kept back by your infamous morning temper.’

That had been his reasoning, true, but it was quite another thing to hear Merlin piece it together so fast, and in company. ‘Don’t you have things to do, places to be, a girl to chat up?’ He added the last one when he caught sight of Jo on the other side of the room. It was hardly a secret Merlin liked her. They had been making eyes at each other all night.

The warlock blushed a bright crimson in response. ‘Just be careful with what you eat,’ Merlin shot back. ‘We don’t want any more holes in that belt.’ This was banter; easy, familiar and strangely hopeful. Arthur could not quite fathom how this had happened so suddenly, but he knew he like this.

And so he responded. ‘Say that again and I’ll have you in the stock until an hour before that talk,’ he threatened, but it was without any true malice.

‘Understood, sire.’ But the smile remained as Merlin walked away to join Jo – or rescue her from Lord Harold, more like – and Arthur leaned back, feeling content that he had done the right thing.

 

***

 

The banquet hall of Camelot seemed far too loud for Lucas’s liking, or maybe that was just Gwaine’s doing. The jovial knight had taken a chair next to the spook and had demanded to get a full account of what had transpired on the Isle of the Blessed. He claimed he had missed out on all the interesting events while he was twiddling his thumbs on the shore.

Lucas liked the knight and his tendency to be friendly to practically everyone, but he did not think he could force himself to talk about everything that had happened there. He still needed to make sense of his own feelings, whatever those were. What was an easily distinguishable one was relief. He was infinitely relieved that it was all over and that tomorrow he could go back to London and he could try to get his life back together.

At least he was assured of his place on the team and the lack of a visit to the shrinks in the near future. Lucas suspected Ros had a hand in this, even when it had been Harry who had delivered the news, but he could not be entirely certain. For now he was just content to be alive, with his limbs all in their proper places, and to be part of Section D still. A large part of him had feared Harry would have him shipped off to Tring the moment he returned to Camelot, but it would seem he had been in luck.

He blocked out Gwaine’s endless chatter and glanced across the room. He spotted Arthur at the main table, looking well and truly bored, Ros on the other end of the room in a green dress she had been made to wear, equally bored, and Harry in conversation with a nobleman of Arthur’s court. But Lucas knew his boss for quite some time and Harry Pearce was not enjoying the celebrations very much either. As soon as he caught Lucas’s glance, he excused himself and all but marched over, taking the seat a young knight had just vacated in order to get himself something to drink.

‘You all right, lad?’ he inquired. Harry had completely disregarded the dress code and had stuck with his suit and tie. That way he did attract a lot of attention, but he pretended not to notice. In normal situations a spook had to blend into the masses, but that was impossible here. They had made quite the impression when they first arrived in Camelot, or so Lucas had heard. He had of course been unconscious at the time, so he would have to take their word for it. Apparently Ros had raced the surveillance van at high speed through the streets of Camelot. It would have sounded completely insane if anyone but Ros had done that. As it was, Lucas was not too surprised.

‘Fine, Harry,’ he assured his boss. Harry had been worrying worse than ten mother hens put together after the debriefing, even if he had been keeping his reactions somewhat under control. Lucas suspected Ros was involved in some way, but asking her or Harry himself would not get him any answers. ‘I’m just stuck here listening to this idiot,’ he added in a softer tone with a jerk of the head in Gwaine’s direction. The knight was so busy talking he did not seem to have heard Lucas at all. The considerable amounts of alcohol he had thus far consumed might have something to do with it as well. ‘I think I may have made the mistake of promising him to show him London one day.’ And he had only done that to get rid of the nagging the other man had directed at him.

‘A grave error of judgement,’ Harry said, but one corner of his mouth curled up. ‘On your head be it.’

Lucas studied his boss. ‘Isn’t this the part where you offer to give me a few days off so that I can rest and give Gwaine a full tour of the city?’ He could not stop the wariness from slipping into his voice. It would not be a too farfetched idea; the head of Section D had been trying to do the same thing when he had first returned from Russia. Harry had been urging him to go home and rest, while all he wanted was to get back to work as soon as he possibly could. And after an event that his boss would believe equally traumatic, it was not unlikely that he would try to do that again.

‘Would you want me to?’ That was not the answer that he had expected, but it was an answer that gave him hope.

‘No.’ Lucas did not even need to think about his answer. There was only one possible. ‘But I expected you would want me to.’ Honesty was usually not an asset in their line of work, but they were not strictly speaking on an operation anymore and after all, colleagues were okay. And maybe it was time for him to start applying that rule to more people than just his Section Chief.

He knew Harry trusted him to be on his side and he knew Harry also trusted him not to go to pieces, to a certain extent at least. Lucas was sure he would be kept away from the more risky operations for a while and Harry would of course make that look perfectly natural, not like he was keeping his Senior Case Officer out of danger at all, but he would not send him on sick leave and he would not send him to see any shrinks either. He might however bring forward Lucas’s annual psych assessment or something like that. But he could live with that.

After all, Harry had not left a stone unturned when Morgana had abducted him and he had heard a few things from Ros about what Harry had done when he had still been in Russia. All these things did not erase the past, did not erase the things that had happened, but maybe they could, in time, start to rebuild that almost father-son like relationship that they’d had before Russia. _Colleagues are okay, even the most senior_.

Harry looked at the goblet filled with mead – only accepted because whisky was not readily available in Camelot – and watched it swirl as he moved it. ‘If you feel like you need it, you can ask. But my Section Chief informed me that she had heard from reliable sources you would much rather return to work.’

So Ros was involved. He was not surprised about that. What he was surprised about was that Harry had admitted it. Rebuilding trust indeed.

He drained his glass and cracked a smile, the one Ros accused him of would make every female in a ten meter radius swoon at his feet. Lucas had retorted that it did not seem to be working on her, for which he had been rewarded with a stern look. ‘Well, you know me,’ he said. ‘I’d do anything to delay that tour of the city.’

Harry seemed to sense the need for a lighter mood. ‘I am reliably informed London can be quite beautiful when one is not chasing terrorists.’ He too downed the last remnants of his drink.

‘Oh, I’m sure it is,’ Lucas agreed. ‘Just not so sure about that when I’ve got a knight of the Round Table in tow.’

He glanced around the room again, spotting Ros at the other end of it, pretending to be interested in some nobleman’s conversation. If Harry and his own intuition were right, he had her to thank for his continued employment with MI-5. Colleagues were okay and Ros was. Lucas had tried to thank her several times, but every time she had slapped it down for no reason at all. Well, maybe the party and the drinks – with the latter being the most likely option – had mellowed her a little.

‘I think it’s time to launch a rescue mission for your Section Chief this time,’ he announced as he got to his feet.

Harry followed his gaze and chuckled. ‘I am sure Ros can handle her own.’

‘I’m sure she can.’ He never had any doubts about that one. If the nobleman was really bothering her, she would have told him to sod off a long time ago. ‘But I owe her a rescue. I’d hate to be in her debt,’ he quipped. And it would not be a dramatic rescue to save her from the clutches of terrorists, but he had the idea that this would somehow be much more appreciated.

 

***

 

Merlin felt like he was walking on clouds and had his head somewhere in them as well. He wasn’t the kind of person to do a happy dance around the room, but if he had been, he would have done it. He knew that Arthur had not exactly told him that all had been forgiven and forgotten, but it had been a first step and he had not failed to notice that. It was something he had been hoping for ever since he had first realised that the reveal of his magic had not gone as smoothly as he had first thought.

In all honesty, he did not expect Arthur to go on as they had before. He would not want that himself. So many things had changed and it was only natural that their friendship changed with it. But it had changed in a way that he had not wanted it to change. Somehow he had always had this idea that their friendship would only grow stronger when all was finally revealed, but it had turned out that this way of thinking had been a grave mistake. The revelation had nearly destroyed it and what had not been damaged by that, had been ruined by Merlin’s immediate distrust of Lucas. If he was really honest, then that had probably been the greatest problem of all and everything else had flown from that. It was ironic in a way.

It had even come to the point that he had believed things had been damaged beyond repair. Had the spooks not practically forced them to make a temporary truce because they had to work together to succeed, then he did not know where they would have ended. They might have refused to ever talk again for all he knew. He had expected that he had to work the rest of his life to win back even a small measure of respect Arthur had once held for him.

That was why this change of heart had now practically make him dance for joy. They had even bantered as they did before and the fact that Arthur had chosen a time when he was least prone to lose his temper was the clearest signal that he was taking this seriously Merlin could have asked for.

And then there had been the banter that Merlin remembered so well, loved so well. Arthur had even as good as urged him to spend some time with Jo. While this made him blush in a way he did not believe very dignified for a powerful warlock, he had to admit the prospect didn’t sound very bad.

And it would seem that Jo was in desperate need of saving. Somehow she had ended up in a very one-sided – by the look of things – conversation with Lord Harold. Said lord was the most obnoxious nobleman of the court. As far as Merlin was aware, there was nothing he actually approved of and he was certainly not going to approve of someone who was so obviously not from Camelot and who had the nerve to wear her hair in such a fashion. It was much too short for Camelot customs and Harold would make sure Jo was well aware of that.

As a servant he was not supposed to talk to nobles without being asked to do so, but this counted as an emergency and Arthur had more or less given it his seal of approval. Besides, Merlin did not think he could have brought himself to care either way. After that conversation he just had with Arthur he felt positively invincible.

‘Lady Joanna, can I talk to you for a moment?’ he interrupted Lord Harold who, very predictably, had just launched into the next stage of his rant about Jo’s hair. ‘Lord Harold,’ he acknowledged. ‘Could you excuse us for a moment?’ He didn’t wait for an answer, just took Jo’s hand and dragged her away with him, leaving the nobleman looking at them with a jaw that seemed in immediate danger of dropping. No doubt there would be consequences later, but the warlock could not truly care.

‘What was that about?’ Jo asked when they had safely arrived on the other side of the hall. ‘I thought servants weren’t supposed to talk to nobles?’

Merlin shrugged. He might regret this tomorrow morning when the offended lord would voice his complaint to the king, but at the moment he could not bring himself to spare the man as much as a second thought. He had not drunk one drop of alcohol, but it was very well possible that he was drunk on happiness. Normally he hated parties such as this one, because it increased his workload so much and he never got any of the fun or food himself, but there were enough other servants in the hall and surely they could stop the place from falling to pieces for just this once.

There was still some of the regret over Morgana’s demise present as well. He was unable not to feel that since he could well be called responsible for it. He had been the one to distract her to such an extent that she forgot about the real danger and for that mistake she had paid with her life. And he was responsible for that, at least partly, because Ros had been the one to pull the trigger and not Merlin. It didn’t change what he felt though.

And he felt a strange sense of loss. He would not miss Morgana’s many attacks, but he did miss the chance of the old Morgana resurfacing. No matter how low she had sunk, he had always kept hoping that she would realise what she had done and that she would repent her ways. Her death put an end to these possibilities and Merlin could not help but feel sad about that.

But tonight, a week since that fateful event, that was not on the forefront of his mind. Arthur’s promise of a decent talk had done that. Now he was smiling like a lunatic, as Arthur would call it.

‘Launching a rescue mission,’ he told Jo. ‘You don’t want to get stuck talking to Lord Harold.’

Jo cracked a smile. ‘I could handle him.’

Merlin did not really doubt that. Jo was a capable spy, even if she seemed sweet and innocent most of the time. She was quick and clever and had a nice sense of humour. Merlin enjoyed working with her. It was just a shame he had not had the opportunity to work much with her. Most of the time he had been running here, there and everywhere with Arthur, Ros and Lucas.

‘I know,’ Merlin said. ‘I was just coming to help.’

An eyebrow was arched. ‘Knight in shining armour?’

The servant shook his head. ‘No, you’d want Gwaine for that.’

They both had a good laugh over that. It was nice to do that again, Merlin found. It was so long ago that he had any cause to do that. Even before this operation had started he had been too busy running after Arthur to sit back and relax.

‘You should come to London again,’ Jo told him. ‘You know, I’m quite sure you have not seen every movie in my collection.’

Merlin did not have not a lot of experience with women, but he was quite sure that this counted as some kind of invitation. And with Morgana and Agravaine out of the way, he might just be able to afford it, provided Arthur didn’t get himself into some tight spot before then and he could get George to take over his duties for a few days.

But that was a concern for later. ‘I’d love that,’ he said.

 

***

 

Ros Myers was bored. She had never been a party animal, and this party was not even for an operation. She could tolerate them as long as she had a mission to complete, a goal. She could pretend to be the world’s greatest partygoer if work required it. But this, this dressing up for a party she had been reliably informed was hosted in her and her colleagues’ honour, that was a different matter altogether and one that she surely was not very pleased with at all.

Arthur had gone as far as to toast to her health and Ros had rewarded him for his troubles with a glare that was known to send most of her subordinates running for the hills without a second thought. But Arthur was not her subordinate and so he had pretended he had not noticed her venomous looks at all. He had done the same thing when she had told him there was no way she would dress in the local fashion. She was afraid that he had learned far too much in Thames House, because he had simply brought the matter to Harry’s attention and he had made it one of those non-negotiable issues of his, and she had come to hate those with a passion.

Harry had informed her that she needed to behave at the celebration. Her boss did sometimes feel more like a father to her than her boss. And when he had lectured her about what to do and what not, she truly did feel like a daughter being lectured by her father. Well, at the very least she could return home tomorrow, to her own flat with central heating, electricity and a warm shower. Those were comforts she had sorely missed since she had come to this place.

That prospect enabled her to put up with this nobleman’s inane babbling. From what he had said so far the Section Chief had been able to piece together that he had a position on Arthur’s council. Exactly why he occupied that position was not entirely clear to Ros, because so far he had not given any sign of being in the possession of something as necessary and important as a brain.

She looked out over the room as the nobleman turned to get himself another drink and was glad to see that Lucas was walking over to her, that idiotic lopsided grin plastered all over his face. It seemed to be genuine this time. It was a good thing that this operation was finally concluded, because it had been taking a toll on all of them, but on no one so heavy as on Lucas.

‘Excuse me, Lord Owen,’ Ros told the babbling noble. ‘I need to talk with my colleague.’ She did not know what he was here for, but it provided her with a good excuse to leave him. And it was also a chance at more intelligent conversation than she’d had so far.

Lord Owen muttered an unintelligible reply, but Ros was not really listening anymore. She had already walked away, cracking something of a smile at her colleague as he passed her a drink.

‘You looked like you needed it,’ he explained.

‘It can’t be that bad,’ Ros countered. ‘What are you doing here?’

The grin widened, if that was even possible. ‘I was authorised to launch a rescue mission,’ he replied, jerking his head in the direction of Harry, who had gotten himself into a conversation with Arthur now. He too didn’t seem to be enjoying himself much. Like Ros, he endured it. Maybe that was the best thing to be done with this situation.

‘I thought that was my job,’ she pointed out.

She was rewarded with a bark of laughter. ‘I thought I’d return the favour. It isn’t a dangerous terrorist cell and all that, but…’ He shrugged.

‘Who said that man isn’t worse than any terrorist?’ Ros quipped. ‘At least with Al-Qaeda I never have to be afraid that they’ll bore me to death.’ Flippancy in this case worked again, because she was very sure that she could not handle any more of Lucas’s declarations of gratitude. In the past week he had, on several occasions, tried to offer his thanks and Ros had tried to deflect it every time. She didn’t know why, but she just wasn’t comfortable with it. She wasn’t used to being thanked. It wasn’t part of the job description. Rescuing her officers out of the clutches of the bad guys was. She had really only done her duty. Thanks were not in order. It was just the nature of the job. It was one of those unspoken rules in this line of work that you protected your colleagues, because no one else was bloody well going to do it.

But Lucas had gotten his job for a reason. He knew she was trying to deflect the subject again. ‘Why won’t you just let me thank you?’ he wondered, quickly grabbing her wrist before she could make an escape. ‘You backed me up since this operation first begun, took enormous risks and you won’t even allow me to thank you?’ He sounded almost cajoling now, although what for was not quite clear to the Section Chief.

And Lucas was really far too sentimental for his own good, something that could be an asset in this job – because it allowed him to understand their suspects better and it made it easier for people to trust him – but it could also be an enormous setback, like now. ‘That’s what colleagues do,’ she reminded him. ‘They’re okay, remember?’ She said it as forcefully as she could without sounding blunt. Or at least she hoped it wasn’t too blunt. She wasn’t known for being subtle when not on an operation.

For now at least it seemed to work, because Lucas’s smile was firmly back in place. ‘Ah, I think we’re closer to friends, don’t you think?’

That was dangerous territory. _You don’t do friends, Myers_. ‘I thought you said friendship was overrated?’ she countered. ‘Didn’t they only annoy you?’

He arched an eyebrow at her. ‘And I don’t annoy you?’ he shot back.

Well, one thing was for sure: he had not lost his wits during his captivity and she had to smile almost in spite of herself, although it was a sarcastic one. ‘All the time.’

‘Friends it is then?’ he insisted.

 _Why not?_ ‘As long as you keep annoying me,’ she replied. Ros could not even remember when she last had a friend, but something about this did not seem too bad. She might just learn to live with it.

‘I’ll make sure of that,’ Lucas promised. ‘So, wanting to get out of this place?’

Ros grimaced. ‘Can’t, I’m afraid. I’m supposed to be on my best behaviour tonight.’ Now it was her turn to jerk her head in Harry’s direction.

‘I told you I was authorised to launch a rescue mission, didn’t I?’ he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

That would be Harry’s way of thanking them for a job well done. It was his habit to dismiss them early when an operation was completed, telling them to get a long soak in a bath, a good meal, a good night’s sleep or whatever it was that they thought they needed at a certain time. And this may not be London, but it was still the end of an operation and they were being sent home early, as if this was just another normal day and this just another normal operation. And maybe, in essence, it was.

So she walked with Lucas out of the room, glad to leave the whole sodding celebration behind. And at least now she was no longer in noble company she could left her skirt to prevent any more unfortunate almost-tripped-over-the-bloody-hem-experiences from happening.

‘Well,’ Lucas said with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. ‘At least I get to tell everyone that Ros Myers took part in a dress-up party about thirty years after she was six years old.’ He looked like the cat who ate the canary when he said that.

Ros remembered they had that conversation when they had first met Merlin, Arthur and their merry knights of the sodding Round Table, even if said table did not even exist yet. She glared at her colleague. ‘You can’t prove it.’

That had been the wrong thing to say, because he produced his mobile phone from his pocket. ‘Doesn’t have a signal here, but the camera’s still working,’ he informed her. ‘And now I’ve got photographic proof.’ He quickly put the device away before Ros could even start to think about taking it from him. ‘This would make for a nice one at the Christmas party.’

‘Do that and I’ll personally make sure you acquire a very intimate knowledge of the paper archive,’ the Section Chief threatened.

Lucas looked at her in mock surprise. ‘I thought I was supposed to annoy you, since we’re friends?’

 _Cheeky bastard_. ‘In that case you’re doing an amazing job of it.’ The remark was snappy, but there was no malice behind it. Colleagues – and maybe even friends – really were okay.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we are, at the end of the tale. But there’s a sequel being planned, because not quite every problem has been solved yet. Mordred is still out there and Section D still has some issues as well. I’ll try to get the new story’s first chapter up before I go on holiday Tuesday, but I can’t promise anything. Just keep an eye out for it!  
> But this story is over and I really hope you enjoyed it. Please comment? I’d really love to hear your opinion, suggestions for the sequel, etc.   
> Thank you all so much for reading the monstrosity this story has become, especially my reviewers. You really are amazing.


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